Breaking Out
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Hermione is willing to sacrifice her life to keep a certain book from Voldemort's clutches. But how far will she actually go to return to her friends... and save Sirius, too? I'm not making any money from this.
1. In the DoM

"In the DoM"

"Where does one even start?" Hermione muttered, her hands trembling. It had only been a matter of weeks ago that the battle at the Ministry had occurred, and Sirius had fallen through that terrible Veil in that room. Despite their little 'break-in', security still wasn't tight enough. Perhaps nobody expected anyone to try and get into the Department of Mysteries; not to mention the fact that they were still in a fluster over Voldemort's return, which they had finally acknowledged.

So she was now in the Department of Mysteries, trying to find a way to bring Sirius back; after all, there had to be _something_ that could help. Maybe there was a library, or some device that could possibly take her back in time to save him.

Eventually, she found a room filled with a clutter of… stuff. Objects galore. She poked around for a bit, wondering if she'd know what she was after if—_when_—she saw it.

A sound outside caused her to duck behind an table that had been overturned at some point, and was on its side. A fair amount of dust had settled over the surface, so she made sure not to touch it, just in case someone realised that she was there.

"In here," a voice hissed, and she froze in horror when she saw Lord Voldemort enter the room, followed by half a dozen of his Death Eaters.

* * *

"Anyone seen Hermione?" Tonks called out the back door of the Burrow. Ginny, Ron, Harry, Fred, and George were playing Quidditch, with Harry as the referee, using the speed of his Firebolt to keep out of the way of the Quaffle as it flew back and forth.

"No!" Harry called, and he swung upside down on his broom to avoid the red ball. "Why? Is there something wrong?"

"It's just that she told Remus that she'd be in the library, and he checked there, and… well… she wasn't. She wasn't there."

"Maybe she meant the library at Hogwarts," he said, frowning as he righted himself.

"She would have been more specific if that was the case, I would have thought," she replied, but she shrugged. "I'll check it out, anyway."

* * *

"Here it is, my lord," someone said a few minutes after they entered the room. The Death Eaters had been combing the shelves and desks, and Hermione had furiously been keeping her mind blank the entire time, worried that Voldemort might hear her thoughts.

"Ah, well done, Rabastan," he said. She listened, and heard some pages turning.

A book, she thought. It's a book. As frightened as she was, she began to feel a bit excited by the thought of reading matter.

"Is this the only copy, Master?" It was Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione shuddered, trying her best to stay quiet.

"Yes, my dear," Voldemort replied. "With the information in this book, we can win the war. The Ministry will be overthrown, Hogwarts taken over, Dumbledore and Potter killed… and everything will eventually be as it should be."

The Death Eaters laughed, and Hermione risked looking around the table. Seven against one. Not the best odds she could hope for. Then again, she wasn't the brightest witch of her age for nothing!

She had to stop them from getting away with that book. If she had to destroy it, then she would; but she would have preferred to get it to Professor Dumbledore as soon as possible, so that he could work out Voldemort's plan. If only she could get word to the Aurors… but she didn't know how she could do it without giving herself away. And if she could escape with her life, then she could continue to help Harry.

But she was a Gryffindor, and would do whatever was necessary.

There was a door behind her, the one she had come in by. It was ajar, enough so that she wouldn't have to waste time opening the door as well as closing it behind her. Voldemort started to lead his Death Eaters out of the room.

Getting off her knees into the starter's position, she poked her head over the table, took aim at Rabastan Lestrange, and…

"Stupefy! Accio book!"

* * *

Madame Pince had confirmed that she hadn't seen Hermione near the Hogwarts library all day, and Harry checked on his Invisibility Cloak. It was still where it should have been, at the bottom of his school trunk. They were starting to worry, and returned to Grimmauld Place to check her room. She wasn't there. Next, they checked St. Mungo's, but no one fitting her description had checked in or been brought in during the course of the day.

"Check the Muggle hospitals nearby," Remus said, and those who were able to work telephones began calling from the phone boxes in the park opposite number twelve.

* * *

"It's the Mudblood girl! Get her!" Voldemort screamed from behind the Death Eaters. Hermione had the book, and before he had even opened his mouth she was out the door, warding it behind her as quickly as she could before bolting down the passageway, hoping that the wards would buy her some time.

She heard the door breaking some distance behind her as she ran through hallways, rooms, doors… until she reached a place that she recognised.

The Hall of Prophecies.

"_No_," she whispered hoarsely. But they were coming, so she ignored the stitch in her side, tried to quieten her heavy breathing, and ran as lightly as she could, hoping that they might be moving so noisily that they wouldn't hear her, and follow.

She sprinted a familiar path. They seemed to be getting closer and closer. She saw a doorway, and opened it before she even knew what she was doing. Closing it behind her, she saw that she was in a large room, and felt the need to rest. Throwing every locking and warding spell that she could think of at the door, she also cast a Silencing Charm, just in case they hadn't seen her enter. She didn't want to be heard.

Feeling marginally safer, she took in her surroundings, and groaned. The Death Chamber. The Room with the Veil. The Place Where Sirius Black Died. She sank to the floor with a sob, and tried her best to think of a way out of here.

I could try to conjure up a Patronus, she thought, and tried to think of a happy memory. But in so dismal a place, so horrible a situation, and so terrifying an association… she just couldn't do it. She tried desperately to think of the happier times; but no matter what she did, the only happy images she could remember were ones in recent times, when they were with Sirius.

"Stupid mind," she muttered. "Now, pull yourself together. Find a way out of here."

There was none. Only the door she had come in by.

"Oh, well done, Hermione!" she scolded herself, pacing around the room.

She ended up in front of the Veil, her shoulders shaking with silent grief, tears caressing her cheeks as she remembered Harry's godfather, and how she was partly responsible for his death, simply through allowing Harry to do what he wanted.

But you saved his life, a voice in her head reminded her.

"Shut up, voice," she said.

A pulse came from the door. They must have sensed her magic, and were breaking the wards one by one.

"No way out, no way out," she said, hopping from one foot to the other repeatedly. She didn't usually panic, but this situation rather called for it.

Looking around for somewhere to get rid of the book—fully prepared to face her death in the name of the Greater Good—she found herself considering the Veil. It had got rid of Sirius; it could damn well take the book as well. She threw the volume with all her might at the mystic curtain, only to have it bounce back into her arms.

"Go _in_ there, you stupid thing!" she huffed, and she tried pushing it through the folds. It started to go through, but then she realised why; her hand was going inside with it. Clearly, there was only one option left to her, and she pulled her hands—and the book—back with a start.

The last ward was broken, and Voldemort blasted the door off its hinges with a well-placed and powerful Reducto charm. With no time to spare, Hermione leapt into the Veil, book clutched tightly to her chest, and she could barely hear the angry cries as she descended into greyness.

* * *

"Call an emergency meeting of the Order of the Phoenix," Albus Dumbledore instructed through the fire; and once he had withdrawn, Remus threw a handful of floo powder into the flames and thrust his head in.

**

* * *

**

Here's my new story. This is the second time that I've done this pairing (HG/SB) where it's started in the Department of Mysteries. Do we see a trend here? I hope not.

**Please R&R, and let me know if I should continue. Okay, I'll continue anyway, as I don't like to leave a story unfinished. Well, if it's one of my **_**own**_** stories—you know, not fan fiction—then I'm better about leaving it. I don't know why. Perhaps it's because **_**these **_**stories are actually read? Hmm…**


	2. The Order Meets

"The Order Meets"

_The last ward was broken, and Voldemort blasted the door off its hinges with a well-placed and powerful Reducto charm. With no time to spare, Hermione leapt into the Veil, book clutched tightly to her chest, and she could barely hear the angry cries as she descended into greyness._

"_Call an emergency meeting of the Order of the Phoenix," Albus Dumbledore instructed through the fire; and once he had withdrawn, Remus threw a handful of floo powder into the flames and thrust his head in._

"I suppose you want a report on the Dark Lord's latest activites," Snape said as soon as he sat down in the living room of number twelve.

"That isn't why I called this meeting," Dumbledore said. "But if you have some recent news, then please do tell us."

"He's after a book called _Oracula Atrum Solus Inhio_. Roughly translated, it means 'The only dark book on prophecies you will ever need'. It contains information that he thinks will help him win the war; in fact, I have very little doubt that it could…"

"I've heard of that book!" Tonks exclaimed. "I've seen it somewhere… remember, Kingsley?"

"No," he said, amused.

"Oh, you weren't there," she said, and she thought. "Well, you see, I tripped over something—some small table in the Aurors' office—and had to help… that's right! You were there," she said, pointing at Moody. "We had to take it downstairs to this room in the Department of Mysteries. While the Unspeakables put it in place, I had to stay in the corner, out of the way, where there were some books. I was less likely to break one of those, see? And that book was there. I'm sure of it. I remember because there's the Atrium in the Ministry, and 'atrum' is part of the title, so…"

"In other words, the book is in the Department of Mysteries," Snape said, and he rolled his eyes. They all remained silent, thinking of the tragedy that took place there less than two months ago. "Well, the Ministry must be informed of this so that they can tighten security. I don't know whether the Dark Lord knows where it is yet. I'll try to put him off the trail, but I won't be able to hold him for long without risking my position."

"Indeed, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, headmaster."

"Now, the reason I've called this meeting is because Miss Granger has gone missing. We've tried hospitals…"

* * *

Hermione tripped over something on the 'floor'. She was in a large, grey room, and the Veil was behind her. She looked down, and gasped. It was Sirius Black lying on the ground. She squatted beside him, and began to shake his shoulders gently.

"Sirius," she whispered. "Sirius, wake up. Sirius? Hang on," she said. "It was a _red_ light. He was just Stunned. So maybe… Okay, then." She drew her wand, and said, "Enervate."

With a start, Sirius' eyes sprang open. He grinned when he saw Hermione, sat up, and looked around.

"Where is everyone? Did we win?" he asked, and Hermione looked down.

"Not exactly," she muttered, and his head snapped around.

"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" he said, losing the smile, and she looked up at him. As her ankles were hurting, she sat down on the floor beside him, staring at the Veil.

"You fell through here after Bellatrix Lestrange… Stunned you." She sniffed, remembering the horrific days afterwards, where so many cried, and Harry raged about Voldemort and the Death Eaters, trying to leave the house to find them. "We thought you were dead. Harry was so upset for weeks afterwards—he still is, in fact. It's taken a lot of time to talk any sense into him. Anyway, he met You-Know-Who while he was chasing Bellatrix, and Professor Dumbledore returned in time to save Harry from being killed. Now everyone in the Wizarding World knows that You-Know-Who is back."

"Am I the only one who…" Sirius began, but he trailed off.

"Yes," Hermione said, and he smiled slightly. "Until today, that is."

"How did you get in here?" he asked, frowning again. "Don't tell me you all came here _again_, to fight _another_ battle?"

"I… I jumped."

"You _jumped_? On _purpose_? What are you, crazy?" He paused, and then realised his own stupidity. He leapt to his feet, grabbing his wand off the floor, and brandished it at Hermione. She shrank back. "Identify yourself."

* * *

Harry and Ron, dejected, returned to Harry's room at Grimmauld Place to dwell on what might have happened to Hermione. Without looking, Harry flopped onto his bed, and sat up straight away when he felt and heard the crunch underneath. He pulled out a note… a note which Hermione had left to him.

"Ron, look at this!" he yelled; and Ron, who had been looking at a poster in the room jumped and spun around.

"What is it?" he asked, and Harry waved the note around.

"It's in Hermione's writing," he said, and Ron sat beside him.

_Dear Harry (and Ron, if you're there),_

_I'm worried that you may still try to find Bellatrix Lestrange, so I've decided to try and find a way to bring Sirius back from behind the Veil. There must be _something_ in the DoM; and I'm determined to find it. If you're reading this note, it means that something's happened to me._

_I hope you never read this._

_In case something really bad happens, know that I love you both, and that I'm sorry. But I couldn't let things go on like this. You know me!_

_Love forever,_

_Hermione._

"Professor!" Harry hollered, and he and Ron barrelled down the stairs.

* * *

Sirius didn't move a muscle, waiting for Hermione to respond.

"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, your ancestral home in London," she said. "The night that we met was a full moon, and I wasn't sure whether to call you 'Mr. Black' or 'Sirius'. You saved us from Professor Lupin—Remus—when he was in the form of Moony. Your middle name is Orion, and one of my best friends is your godson. Uh… how am I doing so far?"

"Remus told me what your Boggart was," Sirius said. "What was it?"

"It was Professor McGonagall telling me that I had failed everything," she said, looking down again with tears in her eyes. "Now for me. What's your Marauder name?"

"Padfoot," Sirius answered, and he turned into his Animagus form immediately. He returned to his human state immediately after, and smiled at Hermione. He offered her a hand up, and she gladly accepted, dusting herself off after she was upright. She tucked her wand into her belt, and looked around.

"So…" she said, and she trailed off, looking at Sirius. He raised an eyebrow, a la Professor Snape. "Where do we go from here?"

"Do you think we're dead?" he asked.

"Do you know any diagnostic spells?"

"No."

"Then we'll have to check the old-fashioned way." She placed two fingers on her wrist, and finally found her pulse. She beamed at him, and grabbed his left hand without warning. She repeated the same action, pressing two fingers together over the veins in his wrist, and waited. There it was. The steady beat. "We're alive. Or, at least, our hearts are beating. Can we do magic?"

"Since you're underage, I suppose I'll have to try," he said, smirking.

"Not that the law necessarily applies in this case," Hermione muttered.

"Rictusempra!" Sirius cried, hitting her with the Tickling Charm. She began to laugh hysterically; and even after he lifted the spell, she remained hysterical. He saw the tears, and leapt forward, pocketing his wand. "Hey, there," he murmured, holding her tightly as she sobbed. "We'll find a way out of this, Hermione. I promise."

"Uh-huh?"

"Yeah-huh. I'll look after you. My godson _is_ one of your best friends, after all."

* * *

The Order looked up as the two boys burst into the room, Harry still clutching the note, both of them deadly pale.

"Something's happened to Hermione!" Ron told them, and Harry gave Dumbledore the letter, which he read out loud.

"Foolish girl," Snape said, gripping the edges of his seat.

"Hey! She was just trying to help," Harry said. Snape glared at him.

"You forget to whom you are speaking, Potter," he said, and he strode to the fireplace. "I must find out what's happened. If the Dark Lord really _was_ in the Department of Mysteries, they may have captured her. I haven't been called yet… Speak of the devil," he added, hissing as he clutched his arm. "I'll be back as soon as I've found out something."

"Professor," Harry said, suddenly repentant. "Thank you."

"Finally some gratitude," the potions master muttered, rolling his eyes, and he left in a blaze of green flames.

* * *

"So what happened to you?" Sirius asked as they wandered through a seemingly endless passageway, trying to find someplace that wasn't all grey.

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you jump through the Veil? Were you trying to find me?"

"I was being chased," Hermione admitted. "I was in the Department of Mysteries, trying to find a way to get you out of here, and was in a room filled with… well, on first sight, junk. But this book was there… Well, first You-Know-Who entered the room with six Death Eaters. Fortunately, I heard them in time to hide. Anyway, one of the Lestrange brothers found the book, and You-Know-Who…"

"Call him 'Voldemort', Hermione."

"All right. I'll try. V… V-voldemort…"

"Good girl."

"He said that this book—of which there's only one copy, apparently—would help him win the war. They were taking it away. So, to stop them, I stunned… I think it was Rab… Ra…"

"Rabastan?" Sirius asked, his teeth clenched.

"Y-yes," she said, looking at him nervously. He sighed.

"I just hate my family, for the most part," he said, waving his hand. "Sorry I worried you there. Carry on, Hermione."

"I knocked him out, stole the book, and ran," she said. "I had to get it away from them, and would have preferred to get it to Professor Dumbledore. But then I found myself hiding in the Death Chamber, and tried to throw the book into the Veil. It wouldn't go in. I worked out that it would only go through if I went with it." Sirius made a small noise that Hermione couldn't identify, and he cleared his throat.

"Sorry again. Continue."

"Okay. So, at that moment, You-Know… uh, Voldemort… he broke down the door, and I leapt into the Veil, taking the book with me. Then I fell over you…"

"Sorry about that, love."

"No harm done. Anyway, that's how—and why—I'm here."

"Well, I've certainly heard of people doing stupider things," Sirius said. "Harry, for one; me, for another. James, certainly. But I would have expected more from you, Hermione Granger. I'm disappointed that you'd risk your life by coming here alone. You… _were_ alone… weren't you?"

"Yes," she said, blinking back tears. "I wouldn't endanger anyone else so."

"But you'd endanger your own life to try and bring back someone who could have been dead, and possibly killed yourself in the process, leaving Harry even more devastated," he replied, shaking his head as they neared a doorway, the first thing to break up the grey monotony.

"I'm s-sorry," Hermione whispered, and the tears began to fall even more. Sirius felt indescribably guilty. He folded her into his arms once again.

"But I'm also incredibly proud of your show of Gryffindor bravery," he said quietly, and her shoulders stopped shaking. She calmed her breathing, and listened. "You're a remarkable girl, only rushing in where angels fear to tread when it's to make things better, make _everything_ better. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have a godson. He wouldn't have a godfather, for that matter."

"He doesn't now," she said. "And if I'd just stopped him from coming to the Ministry in the first place…"

"Hush," Sirius said, and he squeezed her gently. He finally let her go, and backed off a few steps. "Now, dry those eyes. Our escape may lie behind that door. So let's check it out, yes?" She nodded, wiping her eyes and cheeks off with the back of her hand. Sirius helped her, and she smiled at him in thanks. "After you, milady," he said, opening the door, and gesturing her through.

**

* * *

**

Do let me know how you're enjoying this so far, dear readers. How can I improve without feedback? Not very well, I can tell you. Of course, flames are ignored; constructive criticism appreciated; compliments loved.

**And that is how it should be. **

**In case anyone's wondering why they didn't just try to walk out of the Veil the way they came, there are two possibilities: either Hermione told Sirius that they couldn't jump back through there, because there was danger on the other side; or they tried, and couldn't get through. Either way, we didn't see it; but that doesn't mean that it didn't happen!**


	3. Lewis

"Lewis"

"_Hush," Sirius said, and he squeezed her gently. He finally let her go, and backed off a few steps. "Now, dry those eyes. Our escape may lie behind that door. So let's check it out, yes?" She nodded, wiping her eyes and cheeks off with the back of her hand. Sirius helped her, and she smiled at him in thanks. "After you, milady," he said, opening the door, and gesturing her through._

The walls of the room were the same grey as the walls of the passageway through which they had come. The door was made of a dark brown wood, with a silver doorknob; and the same variety of wood had clearly been used to make the desk in front of them. No doubt the chair would match the desk; but they could only see the edges of it around the slender man who sat there, writing something. He looked up when they entered, and the only sign of shock on his face was a slight widening of the eyes. The surprise left his face as quickly as it had appeared.

"Can I help you?" he asked pleasantly, placing his quill beside the parchment and ink well also on the desk. Hermione took in his appearance as she and Sirius walked forward; light skin, darkish, greying hair, cut short at the sides and back. He was wearing a casual grey suit, a darker grey than that of the walls. He wore a pair of silver-framed glasses, which he took off as they approached.

"Yes, you can," Sirius said. "You can tell us how to get out of here."

"Sirius!" Hermione hissed. "You needn't be so blunt."

"Why not? Don't you want to leave as well?"

"Perhaps if you told me how you got here I may be able to help," the gentleman said, pushing his parchment, quill, and ink over to the side and leaning forward on his elbows, hands clasped together. His eyes slid from Hermione to Sirius, and then back again.

"It isn't just a matter of getting back, but getting back _safely_," she said. "When I left, I was being attacked."

"Ah, well," he said, giving her a small smile, "time passes differently here. If you left too early you may arrive back before you came here."

"I… I see," she said, frowning. "Uh… so _can_ you help us?"

"You will most definitely need to tell me how you arrived," he said.

* * *

The boys were champing at the proverbial bit to leave. They wanted to storm right over to the Ministry and find Hermione.

"Remember what happened last time you behaved so rashly?" Remus asked them, frustrated. They glared at him, and huffed, but calmed down. "Now, Kingsley has gone to the Ministry to find out if Hermione has been spotted there. Severus has gone to find out at… at _his_ end."

"She said that the note would only appear if something happened to her, so clearly something _has_ happened!" Harry said.

"We'll find out as much as we can before formulating a plan," Moody said. "Don't want anything to go wrong like last time, do we?"

"Alastor's right," Dumbledore said. "I promise that you will not be left in the dark about this. We know how important Miss Granger is to you, and will do all that we can to find her."

Just then, Kingsley stepped back through the fire.

"No sign of her at the Ministry," he said. "At least, nobody's seen her there. But if she said that she went there, I've no doubt that she would have been there, or may still be there. The guards have promised to search for her in the Department of Mysteries. They will also be on the look-out for the book, and for Death Eater activity."

"Thank you," Ron muttered. His mother was still comforting Ginny, who had been told, and insisted on being present. The twins were also at Grimmauld Place, equally anxious about Hermione.

After a few more silent minutes passed, the fire roared to emerald life, and out stepped Severus Snape, who was paler than usual.

* * *

"Shall I start?" Sirius asked Hermione, and she nodded. "Right. Well, some weeks back, I was duelling with my cousin, Bellatrix," he said, clenching his teeth when he said her name, before relaxing his jaw to continue, "and she Stunned me. I fell through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries…"

"We are aware of the location of the Veil," the stranger said, smiling again. "Continue."

"This is where I come in," Hermione said. "Some weeks after that, I decided to try and find a way to bring Sirius back…"

"Ah! So you knew each other already."

"Yes. One of my best friends, Harry Potter, is Sirius' godson."

"Sirius? Mmm-hmm. Do continue, young lady. Uh… how young are you?"

"I'm fifteen years old," she said, tilting her head in confusion. "Why?"

"We'll need some of your details," he said, opening a drawer in the desk. He sorted through some parchment inside, and finally drew out two pieces which already had writing on them. "You can fill out these forms after you've finished giving me your story."

"All right," she said. "Well, Voldemort… have you heard of him?" The stranger nodded grimly. "He and some of his Death Eaters were trying to take this book, so I stole it from them and gave chase in the Department of Mysteries. It's the only one of its kind, you see, and he said that he'd win the war with it. Of course, not wanting that to happen, I had to keep it away from them, try and get rid of it if nothing else. I ended up in the room with the Veil. As there was no way for me to get out, I had to jump inside, so that I could keep the book away from them."

"And that's all?"

"Well, I tripped over Sirius, revived him when I remembered that he had only been Stunned, and we came here. That's… that's it, really. Isn't it, Sirius?"

"Yes."

"Here are the forms, then," the man said, pushing them forward.

"Wait a minute, Hermione," Sirius said, raising a hand to stop her from advancing. "Why are we filling these out?"

"If you are going to stay here for any amount of time, we need to know at least _some_ things about you," he replied, blinking.

"We just want to go home!" Sirius told him angrily.

"It's not as easy at that…"

"Why not?"

"Calm down, Sirius."

"Not until I get answers."

The strange sighed. "Fine. I'll check the book. Things like this don't happen every day. We may have a different sense of time here, but the concept of time still exists. Rest assured; you will not even have to eat or drink anything here, nor sleep. Not in this part of the Veil."

"No eating or drinking?" Sirius asked, shocked. "No Firewhiskey?"

"Probably for the best," Hermione muttered, and he glared down at her. "Oh, don't give me that look, Sirius. We'll be out of here soon enough; and if not, I'm sure we'll be sent somewhere more… normal. Like the life outside the Veil. What's your name?" she asked the man as he tapped the desk with his quill. He smiled up at her as a book appeared on the space.

"I'm called Lewis," he said. "Now, this is The Book of the Veil."

"Why am I not surprised that it's brown and silver?" she asked, amused. He chuckled as he opened it, scanning the contents page.

"There it is," he muttered to himself, and he flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for, reaching for his glasses with his free hand. He read it quietly, biting the corner of his bottom lip at one point, tapping his chin with the feather of his quill the whole time. Sirius began to fidget, while Hermione looking with fascination at the large tome. Instead of gold leaf on the edges of the pages, it was silver leaf. "Hmm. Well, I was right. It presents an interesting problem, but… well, we'll see."

"What is it? What do we have to do?" Hermione asked. Lewis cleared his throat, and he removed his glasses again.

"You… you have to marry," he said, and Sirius jumped.

"What?" he shouted. He reached for the book, turning it around so that they could read it, and they both paled when they read that Lewis was telling them the truth. The book said that, in their situation, they had to marry to be able to leave.

* * *

"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, feeling as ill as his potions teacher looked.

"They found the book," he began, and Harry leapt to his feet.

"You're only concerned about that bloody book?" he yelled. "You heartless son of a…"

"She took the book from him," Professor Snape said quietly. He couldn't bring himself to feel anger at that moment. He may not have liked the girl, but he still respected her, and hated having to bear bad news yet again.

"She what?" Arthur asked, his hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Rabastan Lestrange found the book. Miss Granger… Hermione… was in the room, and must have heard the Dark Lord say that they needed the book to win the war. As they were leaving the room, she Stunned Lestrange, Summoned the book, and ran from the room, warding the door behind her. They followed her throughout the Department of Mysteries, and eventually lost her."

"Great!" Ron said, not noticing that there was more to the story until after he'd said it. "Oh. She didn't stay 'lost', did she?"

"How perceptive of you, Weasley," the professor snapped, his anger returning. "She had hidden in a room, and warded the door. They found her because of the strong magic that she had used to protect herself. Eventually, they removed all of the wards. By the time they had succeeded, she had clearly already ascertained that there was no escape from the room."

"So they've got the book," Tonks said, her hair changing from short and pink to long, brown, and wavy.

"No," he replied, and they all looked up hopefully.

**

* * *

**

Now poor ol' Professor Snape has to crush their misplaced hopes.

**I named the character Lewis after Inspector Lewis, from the TV show. The third series is finally being released in Australia next month. Woo hoo! We haven't seen any of the episodes from it, so I'm looking forward to buying it.**


	4. Family

"Family"

"_How perceptive of you, Weasley," the professor snapped, his anger returning. "She had hidden in a room, and warded the door. They found her because of the strong magic that she had used to protect herself. Eventually, they removed all of the wards. By the time they had succeeded, she had clearly already ascertained that there was no escape from the room."_

"_So they've got the book," Tonks said, her hair changing from short and pink to long, brown, and wavy._

"_No," he replied, and they all looked up hopefully._

"What happened, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, his voice tired. He was the only one not waiting in hopeful anticipation.

"The room she was in had only thing of any interest," Professor Snape said, trying to delay the inevitable. But he had to tell them, and tell them quickly. Better to get it over with, he reasoned. "An archway with a Veil covering it."

He stopped there, and the room was silent. No one wanted to ask the obvious question; because then it would have to be answered, and as soon as it was said, that would make the whole thing so horribly real.

"Just as they entered the room, she jumped into the Veil, taking the book with her," he finished, hanging his head. There was yet more silence, and he looked up.

"No," Professor McGonagall said, and she sat on a dining chair heavily. "_No_."

With that, the floodgates opened. The females in the room started crying, while the males stood—or sat—there in shock. Angry tears started down Harry's face as he clenched the arms of his chair. Dumbledore patted Professor Snape's shoulder. The potions master turned to him, allowing his own shock to set in.

"The way they spoke about it," he said hoarsely. "The Dark Lord was raging about the loss of the book, but it was tempered with the… 'victory' of Miss Granger's death. They _laughed_. One of the greatest witches of our time… and they _laughed_. Gods, Albus. All I can say is that my acting skills were sorely tested."

"Who'd've thought you'd give a damn about her," Remus muttered, and he received a fierce glare in return.

"I didn't hate the girl as much as you all seem to think, nor am I completely heartless, Lupin," he snapped. "She acted foolishly, but even I cannot deny her cunning, nor her bravery." He turned to Dumbledore. "Someone must inform the girl's parents. They must be told that she is missing, presumed dead. I would like to be part of the delegation. After all, I'm used to delivering bad news, and I can provide them with Calming Draught if they need it."

"Well, Poppy could still administer the Calming Draught; but as she needs to be on hand in case of emergency…"

"Quite."

"But we'll need at least someone else to go with you, to comfort Mrs. Granger," the headmaster continued.

* * *

"I demand to speak to the highest person in authority," Hermione said, thumping her hand on the desk. Poor Lewis jumped in surprise, but he adopted a soothing expression.

"Miss… Granger," he said, looking at her name on the file. "And Mr. Black… Anyway, Miss Granger. I'm afraid that you have no choice, although I do appreciate the, uh, _delicacy_ of your situation."

"'Delicacy'?" she shrieked. "We're not in love! We don't have that kind of relationship, even though I do care about Sirius, naturally. He's a dear friend. But I'm also only _fifteen_. There are laws about that sort of thing!"

"Not here," Lewis replied.

"But there are _outside_ of the Veil," she said. "And if marriage is the only way to leave here, then once we leave… we'll be in a place where it's against the law! Sirius, don't you have something to add? Aren't you angry about this, too?"

"Damn right I am," he said quietly, fury in his voice. "But I don't want to say too much, in case I forget myself in front of you. I'm this close to out-swearing a sailor."

"Look, I'll try to help you, really I will," Lewis said, raising his hand to try and restore calm. "I'm on your side, but there's only so much that I can do. However…"

"However?" they prompted simultaneously, and a gleam appeared in Lewis' brown eyes.

"However, I could arrange a… meeting. Let me see what I can do. In the meantime," he added, standing, "let me show you to your room."

"Our room?" Sirius repeated.

"You knew we were coming?" Hermione said, her voice higher-pitched than usual.

"The Veil provides what we need to accommodate 'visitors'," Lewis said, and he shrugged. "We don't have many, and they don't stay long. Of course, we've never run across a situation as… unusual as yours. So we've got a room available. Come right this way."

"Let me guess," Hermione muttered to Sirius. "The colour scheme will be grey and brown."

"No bet."

* * *

"I'll go," Molly said, trying to keep her voice steady. "As one mother to another. I had the privilege of being a second mother—third, if you count Minerva—to Hermione."

"Quite true," Professor McGonagall said. "I'd like to go along as well."

"We're going, too," Ron said, speaking for Harry as well. "She was our best friend—like a sister to us—and we have the right to speak to the Grangers."

"I want to go, too," Ginny said quietly, clutching her mother's hand.

"I think that should just about do," Dumbledore said. "Arthur? Do you want to go along, as a father?"

"The boys need to be notified," he replied. "And I'll just get in the way. Don't want to overcrowd them, do we?"

"Hermione got on well with Percy, the git," George said, speaking for the first time since he and Fred arrived.

"We'll let him know," Fred continued. "He did look after her somewhat when she started at Hogwarts, after all."

"We promise not to hex him, unless he starts it," George added.

"I'll tell Bill and Charlie, then," Arthur said.

The others made promises of who they'd contact, and Dumbledore said that he'd call a staff meeting at Hogwarts as soon as he returned. Kingsley said that he'd inform the Ministry, _after_ Percy had been told. In fact, he offered to take the twins there.

Before he left, Dumbledore told the deputy headmistress that the Grangers would now have to be put under the protection of the Order, as Hermione stole the book from right under Voldemort's nose, and he'd be seeking vengeance. They arranged to bring the Grangers straight back to number twelve.

Soon, only the six people remained in the room; and they had the worse job of all.

* * *

Lewis led them into a room that had walls of bookshelves, to Hermione's delight, and two beds, to Sirius' relief. If it had been just a double bed, he would have flipped.

"As I said before," Lewis told them, "you won't need anything to eat or drink here. Nor will you need sleep. The beds are… um… for 'comfort'." The way he said comfort made them blanch. "I'm sorry, but I don't have any choice, and neither do you. For now, anyway. I promise, on my word as the Curate of the Veil, that I will do everything in my power to help you."

"Thank you, Lewis," Hermione said.

"You're all right with the books," Sirius mumbled. "But if the Veil really provides everything that we need, then where's the Firewhiskey?"

The Curate rolled his eyes. "Enough with the alcohol already!"

"I agree," Hermione said. "Just relax, Sirius. We'll see you later, Lewis."

"Happy reading," he said, smiling at them, and he closed the door behind him. Hermione had been right about the colour scheme; and the same wood was used, yet again, for the bookshelves. She picked out a book (_A History of Marriages in the Wizarding World_; "Do you think they're trying to tell us something, Sirius?") and lay down on her bed with it, ready to read.

**

* * *

**

I think that about covers it for this chapter. We'll get more of 'the story' later on. If not in the next chapter, the one after that. Or perhaps spread over both chapters. It is, after all, quite a long story regarding why they have to marry. And hopefully a half-way decent one.


	5. The Judges

"The Judges"

"Good day, Miss Granger, Mr. Black," Lewis said cheerfully. "Good news."

"Really?" Hermione asked, leaping to her feet. "That's brilliant! What is it?"

"You're to meet with the four Judges of the Veil," he replied. "They will explain all you need to know—providing that you ask nicely, of course—and will give you a verdict."

"When?" Sirius asked, standing gracefully.

"Time is no object in this part of the Veil, remember? You're to meet with them now, as they're all ready."

"Probably don't have anything better to do," Sirius muttered to Hermione. Lewis frowned at him.

"Come with me, please," he said, leaving the room. Hermione sent her own glare to Sirius.

"What?" he asked.

"He may be friendly; but we don't know him, which means that he could still be dangerous," she whispered as they tagged along behind the Curate. "He's the only being we've seen here so far, apart from each other. And why is he called a 'curate'? Shouldn't it be a 'curator' in this context?"

"What's the difference?"

"Purebloods. Huh. A curator is someone who looks after a museum or gallery, for example, whereas a _curate_ is a… is a clergyman. That's why. They're pushing marriage, like with those books in our room."

"I can't wait to meet these judges, I must say," the Animagus replied.

"I can most certainly wait."

"Here we are!" Lewis called back to them as they approached a door. It was the opposite of the other doors so far. Instead of being wood with silver inlay, it was silver with a wooden inlay, and more ornate. Lewis reached for the wooden handle, twisted it, and pushed open the door. "After you, Miss Granger."

* * *

"Mr. Granger?"

"Yes?"

"My name is Severus Snape. I'm a professor at…"

"At Hogwarts, yes, I know. Hermione's told us all about her professors. Do come in."

"Thank you." Mr. Granger opened the door, and the professor ushered the others in first. They introduced themselves to Hermione's father while Professor Snape closed the door behind him, and he warded it wandlessly and non-verbally.

"Who is it, dear?" someone called.

"It's some of Hermione's friends!" Mr. Granger called back.

"Oh! I'll be right out."

"Do take a seat in the living room," he said, showing them the way. Mrs. Granger soon joined them. Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley were both sitting on the couch with Ginny between them, and Harry and Ron standing behind them. Professor Snape stood in front of the fireplace. Once the Grangers were seated in the armchairs opposite the couch, they offered tea.

"Not yet, thank you," Professor McGonagall said. "I'm afraid that we have some bad news."

"Your daughter was on a mission for the Order," the potions master began. "She found out that the Dark Lord needed this particular book to win the war."

"He's the one who came back to life recently, isn't he?" Mrs. Granger asked, the expression on her face suggesting that she really didn't think much about someone being able to return from the dead.

"What was her mission?" Mr. Granger said.

"I'm afraid that it must remain confidential," Professor Snape told them. He hated having to lie to the Grangers about this, but things would be hard enough for them to take without being told the whole truth. "The Dark Lord found the book—the only one of its kind—and Miss Granger saw this. She stole the book from him, and ran away with it, presumably with the intention of getting it back to us. However, she got lost, and ended up in a dangerous part of the Ministry of Magic… the Department of Mysteries."

"That's where that man died," Mrs. Granger said. "I remember. Hermione cried for a long time over that."

"Well…" He took a deep breath before he continued. "Are you aware of how he died?" The Grangers nodded. "Hermione ended up in the same room. The only way to keep the book away from the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters was for her to throw it into the Veil."

"Oh my," Hermione's mother said, gripping her husband's hand. "Did it work?"

Professor Snape bowed his head for a moment, before looking up again. "She was last seen jumping into the Veil, taking the book with her."

* * *

The four Judges of the Veil were all men, much to Hermione's disgust.

"Sexist berks," she muttered, and Sirius snorted.

"I'm surprised it's not woman, as they're more likely to be pushing for marriage," he said, and Hermione glared at him.

"As opposed to consummate bachelors, who run from commitment and never grow up?" she shot back, and he scowled. Before he could respond, however, Lewis cleared his throat.

"I say again, we're here," he said, and the pair looked at him, and then at their surroundings.

It was like a sparsely-furnished courtroom; but instead of one bench for the judges, there were four, all made out of wood, and the only furniture. The rest of the room was—you guessed it—grey, and Hermione rolled her eyes at the predictability. The four men seated on high were all dressed in black. They had naturally white hair—no wigs—and all lacked expression. The closest one could get to describing them was 'blankly supercilious'.

"You are Sirius Black and Hermione Granger?" the one on the far left said. He had a silver number painted on his bench, a number one. Now that they looked, each bench had a different number.

"Yes," Sirius said. "Are you the people we see about getting out of here _without_ tying the knot?"

"We will judge your situation," Three said. "It is not for you to decide your fate here."

"Why not?" Hermione asked indignantly. "These are _our_ lives you're talking about."

"Hermione's right," Sirius told them. One, Two, Three, and Four looked at each other.

"We must tell you more about this place, we think," Four said.

"If you are prepared to listen," Two said.

"Do we have a choice?" Sirius asked flippantly.

"Just listen," Lewis hissed. So they did.

* * *

"How could you let this happen to her? You're supposed to be protecting our daughter!" Mrs. Granger yelled, the tears streaming down her face. "We thought that she'd be safer in a world of magic, but now she's _dead_!"

"I'm so sorry for your loss…" Professor McGonagall began.

"You let her go on a mission _alone_?" Mr. Granger raged. "What kind of irresponsible people are you?" Ginny leapt to her feet.

"We may be different from you, but Hermione is someone else altogether," she said, clenching her fists. "By keeping the book away from Voldemort, she has helped to save the wizarding world; and in case you hadn't noticed it, some bad things have been happening, strange things. They're caused by his followers. Hermione has helped us by getting the book away from them. If she hadn't done that, we might have all been dead by the end of this week. I'm proud to have known her."

"So am I," Professor Snape said, and the others added their agreement.

"Hermione saves people all the time," Harry said. "She's saved Ron and me countless times, even when she was petrified by the basilisk."

"She was _what_ by the _what_?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Uh… that was a few years ago," Ron said. "N-never mind."

"Tea?" Mrs. Weasley said. The Grangers nodded weakly, and she and Professor Snape went and made it; once they had found the kitchen, that is.

"The thing is, you'll be more of a target than you were before," Professor McGonagall told them after a few minutes' silence. "Because of Hermione's brave act, You-Know-Who will most likely come after you. Your lives are in danger. We want to offer you protection…"

"Why should we go with you?" Mr. Granger asked stiffly. "Your kind are the reason our daughter is dead. Magic killed her."

"She'd want you to be safe…"

"No! If they want to kill us, they can just come and get us," Mrs. Granger said. "We refuse to go with you."

"Here," Professor Snape said, handing them each a cup of tea. He and Mrs. Weasley had warmed the tea magically to save time. The Grangers drank, and calmed down.

"Are you sure you don't want protection?" Professor McGonagall prodded, hoping that the Calming Draught would make them more amenable to the suggestion. But they remained adamant.

"Please leave," Mrs. Granger said, her voice soft as she begged them.

The three witches and three wizards left the Muggle house quietly, and Apparated straight back to Grimmauld Place. They would have to set up a secret watch instead.

**

* * *

**

Okay, the story is in the next chapter. I promise. You will find out the history of the Veil, and will soon get answers as to why Sirius and Hermione are supposed to marry to leave.


	6. Two Stories

"Two Stories"

"_Here," Professor Snape said, handing them each a cup of tea. He and Mrs. Weasley had warmed the tea magically to save time. The Grangers drank, and calmed down._

"_Are you sure you don't want protection?" Professor McGonagall prodded, hoping that the Calming Draught would make them more amenable to the suggestion. But they remained adamant._

"_Please leave," Mrs. Granger said, her voice soft as she begged them._

_The three witches and three wizards left the Muggle house quietly, and Apparated straight back to Grimmauld Place. They would have to set up a secret watch instead._

A memorial for Hermione was held at Hogwarts. The Order would also honour Sirius, but only privately. To most of the wizarding world, he was still considered to be a criminal. But many people attended the memorial. That was the main reasoning behind holding it at Hogwarts, so that a larger number of people could turn up.

The entire population of Gryffindor House turned out. Many Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs came as well. The only Slytherins in attendance were Professor Snape and Horace Slughorn, a man who had shown up at Dumbledore's request. He ended up talking to Harry for quite awhile afterwards.

At the same time, Professor Snape was talking to Dumbledore.

"She may have helped us this time," he said, "but she can continue to help if we can get her back. Can I count on your help?"

"What are you hoping to accomplish, Severus?" the headmaster asked.

"There must be some way out of the Veil, and I'm determined to find it," he said, eyes flashing. "Miss Granger is—was—too important for us to lose."

"Would you have done this if it was just Sirius lost to the Veil?" Dumbledore said.

"Black was impetuous, and took no precautions," he replied, sneering. "Miss Granger thought things through, and was able to assist with brewing potions, did research, and wasn't as much of a distraction for Potter as his godfather."

"I will meet any expenses you incur."

"Thank you, headmaster."

"It's about to begin," Mrs. Weasley said, joining them. They all took their seats. People who wanted to tell their favourite story about Hermione were given the floor. Harry and Ron would be speaking first.

* * *

"This Veil is a place of horrors and of death," Three began. "We, along with Lewis—and many other people who you have yet to meet—have striven for decades to clean up its image, so to speak. Of course, it wasn't always such a fearful place. Its history was originally one of peace and love."

"How did things change?" Hermione asked.

"In the worst possible way—mass bloodshed," Two said.

One continued the story. "Hundreds—perhaps thousands—of years ago, it used to be the place where marriage ceremonies would be performed. In those days, the women used to be maidens. Virgins," he added, presumably for Hermione's benefit. She nodded.

"At the end of the ceremony," Four said, "it was traditional for the girl to throw her wedding veil into the depths of _this_ Veil. Hence the significance of the name. It has since been changed to a kiss; and no one marries in front of the Veil anymore. This is because of what happened many decades ago. It may have even been a matter of centuries. There is no way for us to know."

"What happened?" Sirius asked. He was now as curious as Hermione. After all, if this concerned his future, he needed to know why he was being forced to marry an underage witch.

* * *

"Hermione has always supported us; as a friend, as a fellow student, as a sister," Harry said. He hadn't made any notes, as he wanted to speak from the heart. So did Ron. "We met on the train to Hogwarts, and became friends after a little incident with a mountain troll." He smiled, and there was a wave of soft laughter from the audience. "After that, she's always been the one to help us, to save us."

"We'd be dead many times over if it wasn't for `Mione," Ron added. "No matter what we did or said to her over the years, she remained loyal. She was clever, kind, and forgiving."

"We'll miss you, Hermione," Harry said, and Ron echoed this before they left the platform. Neville, Luna, and Ginny stood up, as representatives of Dumbledore's Army.

"I can't keep track of how many cauldrons I would have melted without Hermione's help in Potions," Neville began. "Or the number of potions that may have exploded. She risked getting in trouble to protect the class… and my grades." The crowd laughed softly again.

"Learning was important to her," Ginny said. "If ever you couldn't find Hermione, she'd most likely be in the library, stressing over exams that we all knew she'd pass, writing assignments that weren't due in for a few months, and checking Harry and Ron's work." Another laugh. Hermione would have been happy to hear that.

Luna spoke last out of the students. "Last year, Hermione set up a secret class for those who wanted to learn more about defence. Thanks to her, those of us in Dumbledore's Army will be better able to defend ourselves when the battle comes. And believe me; we will fight."

There was an cry of agreement from the DA members; a battle cry.

* * *

Two spoke again, continuing the story. "It was a serious thing for an impure girl to marry publicly. A widow who re-married didn't throw in her veil, as it would only be thrown back at her. It took awhile to realise why this was; a virgin's veil would not be accepted.

"One day, a girl from an important family was married in front of the Veil. When she threw in her veil, it was thrown back out—revealing her impurity—straight into the face of the best man, the _married_ brother of the groom.

"The reason for the wedding was to cement a relationship between the two most important families in the county. A tension had brewed between them for decades. With this latest insult to both families, a riot broke out, resulting in many deaths. She had indeed lost her virginity to the groom's brother—the night before the wedding."

"From that day forth," Three said, "the Veil has been considered bad luck."

"That's terrible!" Hermione exclaimed.

"The people tried to destroy the Veil, but it had too many protective charms on it to be destroyed completely," One told them. "At some point, it was moved to the Department of Mysteries. But in the meantime, the Veil created us so that we could repair and maintain it, and try to restore its image."

"You are the third couple to have stayed here," Four continued. "Unfortunately, the first two couples had already consummated their marriages. You are a virgin, girl?"

"Y-yes," Hermione said, blushing at the personal question.

"How dare you question her!" Sirius said angrily. "Now, I've put up with a hell of a lot the past decade and a half. But I've been very patient with _you_ lot so far. What I want to know is how we can get out of this damned place without having to condemn Hermione to a marriage when she's so young, with someone old enough to be her father!"

"A pretty young father," Lewis muttered.

"The Veil must be made pure again," Two replied. "If you marry her while she is still a virgin, then the act in itself may be enough to release you from here."

"'_May_'?" Hermione repeated. "You mean you don't _know_?"

"Miss Granger," Lewis said, "you must understand. We've never had the opportunity to try this."

"So there may still be a way to exit the Veil without having to marry?"

"We have not found it yet."

"What happened to the other couples?" Sirius asked, and Lewis looked at him.

"The reason they came here was because they had nothing left in the outside world," he said. "They were attempting to commit suicide. They have found happiness here. But as you both clearly have friends and or family waiting for you on the other side—hence your agitation to leave—you won't be content to live out the rest of your days inside the Veil, will you?"

"Of course not!" Hermione said. "I haven't finished my education yet."

"And I only just escaped jail a few years ago," Sirius added. "I haven't been a free man since Halloween, 1981. Do you think I want to be trapped in yet another prison? I'd almost prefer to be at Grimmauld Place right now."

"I never even got to say goodbye to my parents," Hermione said, and a tear escaped her right eye. Sirius gave her a brief hug, and then turned to glare at the four Judges.

"Well? Surely you can just let us out?" he asked. They shook their heads, and he growled in frustration.

"What will you do with us?" she said, looking up imploringly.

**

* * *

**

Another cliff-hanger. I'll send the rescue `copter soon. Promise!

**The title refers to the fact that two stories are being told: Hermione's story (via the memorial) and the Veil's story (via the Judges).**


	7. Decisions

"Decisions"

"_I never even got to say goodbye to my parents," Hermione said, and a tear escaped her right eye. Sirius gave her a brief hug, and then turned to glare at the four Judges._

"_Well? Surely you can just let us out?" he asked. They shook their heads, and he growled in frustration._

"_What will you do with us?" she said, looking up imploringly._

"We like to think that we are fair in our judgements," Four said. "Else why would we have been made the Judges of the Veil?"

"That's what _I'd_ like to know," Lewis muttered, rolling his eyes. The Judges all glared at him, and he just raised an eyebrow in answer. Hermione was reminded of Professor Snape, and missed Hogwarts more than ever.

"Leave us until Lewis sends for you," One said. Sirius and Hermione left the room. She was trembling by the time he closed the door. Seeing this, he pulled her into his arms again, resting his head on top of hers, and began to murmur reassuring nothings. She gradually calmed down, and the trembles halted.

"Better now?" he whispered, and she nodded.

"I'm only fifteen," she said quietly. "I'm as good as dead to the outside world. And what do I do with _this_?" She held out the book, and read the title. "_Oracula Atrum Solus Inhio_. I see."

"What? What does it mean?" Sirius asked, and Hermione looked up at him.

"It's Latin…"

"Okay, that I _did_ see," he said, smiling. "What else?"

"_Oracula_ means 'oracle'," she said. "Depending on your translation. It could also mean 'prophet', or even 'prophecy'… that's it! Something to do with the prophecy!"

"You said he didn't get the prophecy," Sirius said, frowning.

"Exactly!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's why he needed the book!"

"What about the rest of this? What does the next word mean?"

"_Atrum_, I think, means 'dark'. 'Dark', or 'black'."

"Ha!"

"Yes, yes. _Solus_ means 'solo', or 'alone', or 'only'. _Inhio_… oh, I _know_ this."

"Great. What it is?"

Hermione muttered to herself, going through all the Latin words starting with 'I' that came before _Inhio_.

"'Need'!" she shouted triumphantly. "It means 'need'."

"So… 'prophecy dark alone need'?"

"What's the Hogwarts motto?" Hermione said, putting her hands on her hips as Sirius looked down, suddenly realising that he was holding the book. How had _that _happened?

"Uh… 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon'."

"Right. The words can be in whichever order you feel like."

"So how would you arrange them?" he asked.

The door suddenly opened, and Lewis poked his head out. "You can come in now."

* * *

The battle cry died out; but it was replaced with something else. Each soldier of Dumbledore's Army let off a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes firework.

The fireworks zoomed around the memorial statue, before returning to the sky where the crowd could see them properly. They became letters, spelling Hermione's full name; and the last firework, let off by Colin Creevey, was a large, tawny lion, representing Gryffindor House. There was a collective feeling that, much as Hermione disapproved of Fred and George's products, she still would have enjoyed the show. And they hoped that, wherever she was, she was watching them, and smiling.

* * *

Hermione and Sirius stood, glaring at the Judges. Lewis stood behind them. He had pleaded their case, and helped come up with the most reasonable proposition under the circumstances. His only hope was that they'd agree; otherwise they'd be in for another long wait.

"We have come to a decision regarding your situation, and hope that it is agreeable to you," Two said.

Three took over. "Our proposal is this: you both have until the day Miss Granger comes of age to find a way out of the Veil without marrying. However; if, by that day, you have not managed to escape together, you will have to wed within a week, with no further attempts to leave."

"Do you agree to this?" One asked.

Sirius looked down at Hermione. She was pale, but not as pale as she was before. As she looked up at him, he raised an eyebrow in question.

"Say 'yes', for pity's sake!" Lewis whispered. "It's the best I could do for you. They won't lower their terms; I can guarantee that." Hermione nodded, and Sirius turned to the Judges.

"Thank you for your wise judgement," he said, trying not to roll his eyes. "We accept your generous offer, and await further instruction." Oh yes. He knew the drill for this kind of thing in the wizarding world. Fortunately, not from experience.

Or, perhaps, unfortunately. Damn. He should have stayed in Azkaban.

Lewis showed them out of the room, and they walked down a different corridor than the one they took before. They approached a large doorway, like the one going into the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It was made entirely of what looked like silver.

"White gold," Lewis whispered to Hermione, and her eyes widened. "There's wood on the inside to make it sturdy; but the outside is entirely white gold."

"How is it possible?" she asked, in complete awe.

"There is no such thing as money in the Veil," he replied, grasping the handles. "It was created _out_ of love, _for_ love, and was destroyed by lies and hate. Money had nothing to do with it."

"Good philosophy," Sirius muttered. Hermione was unsure if he was being sarcastic. Lewis just rolled his eyes again, and opened the doors.

The hallway was immediately flooded with light.

* * *

"A good memorial, I think," Slughorn remarked to Dumbledore. "You must have all cared a great deal about her."

"She was the brightest witch of her age," the headmaster replied. "You would have had her in the Slug Club before you could say 'Skele-Gro."

"Is that so?" the former professor said. "What a great pity. I should have liked to get to know her."

"Did you enjoy talking to Harry?" Dumbledore asked casually.

"That's your way of asking if I'll come back to teach, isn't it?" Slughorn said. "I see through your tricks, Dumbledore. Fine. I'll return to teach potions. Only I don't want to live in the dungeons like I used to. In my old age, I need somewhere with more air, more warmth."

"Of course, Horace. Severus will prefer to stay in his rooms, I'm sure. He will be busy doing research. For quite some time, I should imagine. He'll be grateful to be relieved of teaching Potions." The corners of Dumbledore's mouths lifted slightly.

"Finally getting the job he wants, eh?"

"Something like that. Thank you for accepting."

"What are old friends for, Albus?"

"What indeed…"

"Headmaster," Harry said, approaching them. He was looking strained. "When are we going to have the memorial for… for Padfoot?"

"Once everyone's gone," Dumbledore said. Slughorn looked between the two of them; he had no clue what they were talking about. He also had an idea that he wouldn't find out what it was, either. So he said his farewells, and ambled off to Hogsmeade to visit The Three Broomsticks.

"Impressive display," he continued to Harry. His head tilted towards the fireworks, which were slowly fizzling out.

"Ron's idea," Harry said, swallowing.

"I'm thinking of re-starting the duelling club from your second year," the headmaster said, and Harry looked up at him. "I was thinking… Hermione's Army? Something like that?"

Harry nodded, blinking back tears. "Sounds great, sir."

"Very good. We'll talk about it some more sometime. For now… we must remember Sirius."

**

* * *

**

Ah, but Sirius and Hermione are kind of alive, aren't they? I'm glad that I've been able to maintain some level of interest so far with this story. Keep the reviews coming, peoples!


	8. Home

"Home"

"_I'm thinking of re-starting the duelling club from your second year," the headmaster said, and Harry looked up at him. "I was thinking… Hermione's Army? Something like that?"_

_Harry nodded, blinking back tears. "Sounds great, sir."_

"_Very good. We'll talk about it some more sometime. For now… we must remember Sirius."_

The service for Sirius was simple, low-key. They didn't want anyone from outside of the Order and its friends to know about his memorial, as it would raise questions that couldn't be answered without a confession from Peter Pettigrew. Severus went so far as to offer to bring him in for questioning under Veritaserum, but Dumbledore didn't want him to blow his cover for so inconsequential a matter. The truth couldn't help Sirius now…

After the memorial, they all returned to Grimmauld Place. Even though Harry now owned it, he hated the ancestral house. It had been a second home while Sirius was alive; but now it was just another reminder of what he had lost. In fact, his first home—Hogwarts—would serve as a reminder for the loss of one of his best friends.

School would never be the same.

* * *

Hermione was ushered through the white gold doors, followed closely by Sirius, with Lewis bringing up the rear. He closed the door, and watched with amusement as Sirius and Hermione took in the wonderful views.

A large garden met their eyes. It was filled with fruit trees, rainforest trees, fruit bushes, flowers. The bright colours reflected the sun, as did the sparkling water in a small brook running in and out of the plants. The streaming water channel was narrow enough for someone just to step over it, as long as they watched their feet. A rainbow of butterflies weaved between the trees. The air was sweet with honeysuckle.

"It's… it's breathtaking," Hermione said, in complete awe. "How can something like this possibly exist?"

"It's taken many years," Lewis said, secretly pleased. After all, he had designed the garden, planted everything, and did the most to maintain it.

"Neville would love this," she added, and she smiled up at Sirius. He was paying less attention to their surroundings, and more to what was beyond them.

"We're in a courtyard," he said. Sure enough, the trees had almost completely blocked the sight of dark-grey stone walls. The arches that Hermione could now see reminded her of the courtyards at Hogwarts, and she felt a desperate pang in her heart.

"Yes," she said hollowly. Lewis patted her arm—their first contact—and she jumped. Sirius let out a bark of laughter, and she frowned at him. Lewis also sent him a frown.

"I'll show you to your rooms," he said. "Follow me. And watch the brook."

"Are there many other people around?" Hermione asked, touching some of the plants as they passed, and smiling at the frog that croaked near her, perched on a lily flower in one of the pond-like parts of the stream.

"Not many," Lewis admitted. "You may meet them around—probably only by chance—but you'll find enough to keep you entertained. After all, you'll be trying to break out of the Veil, won't you? No time for socialising."

"How big is this place?" Sirius asked. The Curate smiled.

"Why don't you explore? I'm not saying anything against your abilities, Miss Granger, but I think you'll be here for awhile. Fortunately for you, I have something special that I think you'll find well worth your time."

It took awhile to coax her out of the garden; in the end, Sirius had to grab her by the arms from behind, and pushed her into the hallways and through a wooden door.

They were led into a living area, similar to a common room. It was done in elegant, dark cream colours, leading to a light brown on the skirting boards. The carpet was a dark brown, with forest green and blood red patterns on it. The furniture—a couch, three armchairs, and a coffee table—all matched the colour scheme.

To Hermione's surprise, there was a television in the corner, with no visible connection to any power point. There were no videos around, either. A wireless radio was on the other side of the room, sitting near the large fireplace.

"No floo powder," Lewis said, noting Sirius and Hermione's glances to each other. They sighed.

"I don't know how to make it, either," she muttered. "Well, it's a lovely room," she continued, and she cleared her throat.

"This isn't actually what I meant," Lewis admitted. "I'm saving _that_ for very last. This is the room you'll share—unless, of course, you'd like to share a bedroom…"

"No!" they both said vehemently.

"Then we'll see Mr. Black's room next. Right this way."

The only other door in the room led to yet another grey corridor. There were five rooms leading off this—two on the left, two on the right, and one right at the end.

"Your room, Mr. Black," Lewis said, opening the first door on the left.

"It was plain and empty. There was no furniture. Sirius glared at the Curate.

"What are you playing at?"

"What would you like in your bedroom?" he asked in mock surprise.

"A bed, for starters," Sirius said through his clenched teeth. Suddenly, a bed appeared. "And a… a wardrobe with clothes in it." A matching wardrobe appeared.

"You don't even need to tell the room," Lewis explained. "Just picture in your mind what you want. However, you can come back later. Right now, you need to see the rest of the place."

Across the hall from Sirius' bedroom was Hermione's room. It was the same as Sirius' had been. She imagined a bed like her bed at home, and it appeared, exactly as she imagined it. Her eyes lit up, and she turned to Lewis, her lips parted in a huge smile.

"It's perfect," she said.

"Yes, it is," he said quietly, as she turned back to marvel. "Come this way, Miss Granger. You too, Mr. Black."

"I was wondering when someone would remember me," Sirius muttered, and he followed them out of the room.

* * *

The train ride to Hogwarts at the end of the summer was far too quiet. Most of the people on board the train were subdued because of the deaths over the holidays. It wasn't just Hermione's death; there had been Death Eater attacks. Disappearances and deaths were getting far too common. The only highlight was Fred and George's joke shop. They jokingly said that Hermione's memorial service had been great advertising; but everyone knew that it was their coping mechanism.

Percy had indeed been affected by Hermione's death, and was even on speaking terms with Bill and Charlie at the moment. He was still 'the same Ministry-loving git' as before, according to Ron. This made Harry laugh. The laughter soon turned to hysteria, and Ginny folded him into her arms.

"Things'll never be the same again, will they?" Neville asked. They all shook their heads.

"Just look at the _Prophet_," Ron said, hitting the newspaper with the back of his hand.

"If it's too depressing, you can read _The Quibbler_," Luna offered, pulling out a copy of her father's latest issue. Ron accepted it without a word.

"We'll arrive at Hogwarts soon," Ginny murmured into Harry's hair. He nodded, and held her closer.

* * *

"The kitchen and dining room," Lewis said, leading them into the second door on the left. It was fully furnished; and when they checked the cupboards, fridge, and freezer, they were able to 'think up' whatever they wanted. Once fully stocked, they followed the Curate into the opposite room, which turned out to be a large bedroom. There was a spa, a bath, a shower, and two sinks. Behind a screen was the toilet; and the empty cupboards were soon filled with whatever they needed in the way of bathroom products.

"This is great, Lewis," Hermione said, beaming at him. "But what's in the last room?"

"The very last," he said meaningfully. She caught on. This was what he had meant when he said that he had something special to show her. They left the bathroom, Sirius trailing behind as he sulked. They weren't paying enough attention to him. Immature it may have been, but whoever said that he was grown-up?

"Here you are," Lewis said, giving Hermione a small smile as he placed his hand on the door knob. He paused, and then reached over. He grasped her left wrist, and replaced his hand with hers. Placing his right hand over hers, he moved it gently to open the plain wooden door. He motioned her to enter, and she did so slowly, taking in the extraordinary sight before her.

It was a library. But not just any library. The shelves were either side of the room, interrupted on the right sight with only a fireplace, coffee table, and two armchairs. The extraordinary thing, however, was that the shelves running down either side of the room went on forever. They faded into a tunnel of black.

"Yes," the Curate murmured. "The shelves go all the way down. Take a book from the end of the shelf."

Staggering forward a little, completely speechless, Hermione obliged. As soon as she took the tome, the books in that row moved up. The sound seemed to continue on forever, until it faded into the distance.

"Now let go of it."

She did, and the book flew onto an armchair.

"As soon as you're finished with that book, just tap it with your wand, and say 'Return'," he told her. "However, you may want to make sure that you _have _finished it."

"Why's that?" Hermione asked, finally finding her voice.

"It will take you a long time to get through all the books here," he said, shrugging. "You may never get around to reading it again."

"Oh," she said, nodding slowly.

"So, Hermione," he said. "May I call you 'Hermione'?"

"Call me whatever you like," she said, turning around as she marvelled at the room. He laughed in response.

"Well, Hermione; do you like it?"

She looked at him, her eyes gleaming. "I love it," she whispered, and she threw her arms around him in joy. "Thank you, Lewis!"

**

* * *

**

So, Hermione's surrounded by books. Well, she'd go crazy otherwise. She'll also need to be able to research the Veil if they're to try and escape.


	9. Setting Time

"Setting Time"

"_It will take you a long time to get through all the books here," he said, shrugging. "You may never get around to reading it again."_

"_Oh," she said, nodding slowly._

"_So, Hermione," he said. "May I call you 'Hermione'?"_

"_Call me whatever you like," she said, turning around as she marvelled at the room. He laughed in response._

"_Well, Hermione; do you like it?"_

_She looked at him, her eyes gleaming. "I love it," she whispered, and she threw her arms around him in joy. "Thank you, Lewis!"_

"Yes, well," he said, flushed with embarrassment. "If ever you reach the end of the books, more will appear. Now, I must go. I'll come and visit you sometime."

"Both of us?" Sirius asked irritably.

"Of course," Lewis said, sounding annoyed. "Until later." He took one of Hermione's hands, and kissed it. He disappeared from the room with a smile; completely into thin air. They both blinked rapidly at that. With a last look at the books, Hermione picked up the one that was on the armchair, and left the room. She and Sirius separated to 'furnish' their rooms, with a silent agreement that they would meet in the common room afterwards.

Meanwhile, Lewis was meeting with the Judges in a private room. They needed to discuss the new arrangements.

"They are settling in?" Four asked, and the Curate nodded.

"What now?" he asked.

"We have discussed it," One said. "The next thing to do is arrange the time for them in comparison to the outside world. It cannot be the same, as you know."

"Indeed."

"We will make it go faster for them here," Two said. "At the moment, it's going far too slowly. We need to speed things up."

"How much faster?" Lewis asked, frowning.

"For each day out there," Three began, "one week here."

"What?" the Curate exclaimed. "You must be joking! One year out there would be seven here."

"We need her to come of age as soon as possible," Two replied. "The Veil must be purified. She must not have a chance find a way out of here."

"_Is_ there a way for them to leave without marrying?"

"We don't know," Four said. "We've never tried to find out. We cannot let them leave until they can help us."

"Just make it double time, triple if you must. Just don't do this to her. To them."

"Do you care about the girl already?" One asked, intrigued. Lewis rolled his eyes.

"Much as she's a refreshing change," he said, evading the question, "it's not right to control people's lives like that."

"What would you have us do? Just release them?" Three asked, frowning.

"Can you even do that?" Lewis said.

"We're not about to try," One said, arching an eyebrow. "Not when we're so close."

"Please, don't make time go so slowly out there," he said.

"Don't you want her to stay here longer?" Two asked, his tone almost sly.

Scratch that. It _was_ sly.

Lewis sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. Did it really matter what he wanted?

* * *

The Sorting Hat acknowledged the deaths over the summer in a roundabout way, which certainly subdued the usually-happy occasion. Professor Slughorn was announced as the new Potions professor, and Professor Snape as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Harry didn't even notice what was being said, nor did most of the students in their year, and most of the Gryffindors.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Ron asked after the Sorting had finished, and everyone was eating.

"What?" his sister asked.

"Well, I was thinking about what Neville said about Potions at the… at the memorial," he said, and Neville glanced up. "We're going to have to answer questions in class by ourselves now; write our essays without help."

"Yes," Ginny said, her voice tight. "You'll actually have to _learn_ for once."

"What I _mean_, sister," Ron said, glaring at her, "is that we never appreciated Hermione enough. I suggest a Gryffindor-only wake for her in the common room next Hogsmeade night. We'll get supplies at the village during the day."

"Sounds like a plan," Harry said, shrugging. He was feeling calm now; almost sanguine. "I'll provide the money."

"What do you think Dumbledore's talking about with Snape?" Neville asked, interrupting their discussion about the party. They all looked at the staff table, and saw that Dumbledore was indeed talking with a furious-looking Professor Snape.

* * *

Lewis didn't speak. The Judges got tired of waiting for him to sort through his internal battle.

"There are other people," Four said callously. Lewis glanced up.

"None of them has ever dared to hug me," he said.

"Yes, well, she'll be of age soon enough," Two reminded him. The Curate glared at him.

"So, what's your decision?" he asked, saying 'decision' as if it were a dirty word.

"Five days out there to one day here," One said.

"Two to one."

"Five to one."

"Two to one."

"Four to one," Three amended. Lewis refused to back down.

"Two to one."

"Three to one, no lower," Two said, exasperated. Lewis did some quick mathematics in his head. Of course, with time being so erratic, his thoughts seemed quick, but he was actually doing long, complicated calculations. He glanced at his pocket-watch, which told the time and date in the outside world. September the first. In a little over two weeks, Hermione would be sweet sixteen. That gave them, say, a year with which to work, assuming that they were running on the basis that 'of age' meant seventeen.

"What age are we aiming for?" he asked. "Seventeen or eighteen?"

"Seventeen, of course," Four said. Lewis rolled his eyes. Of course. Silly question.

Right. They had one year with which to work.

If they made it three to one, then every day would only be sixteen hours long. She would only have four months to try and escape. Two to one would give her six months. But what if he went more complex than that?

Anything would make the days shorter—literally. As though it were winter solstice. Three to two would mean that one year in the Veil would pass at the same time as eight months outside. What about four to three? One year here would equal nine months in the outer world. The days would be eighteen hours long each.

Lewis couldn't go any further than that. He was getting a headache, and the judges were waiting.

"Four to three," he said. They looked at each other, dismissed him from the room, and talked it over. When he was finally _graciously_ invited back inside, he awaited their verdict with a raised eyebrow, refusing to do something as ridiculously clichéd as holding his breath. What an idiotic notion.

* * *

"When you go, I will have no further source of funding to free Miss Granger and Mr. Black," Professor Snape muttered fiercely to Dumbledore. "Do you really wish to condemn her to a life of hell? Or to an unknown—and probably horrible—death?"

"My dear boy," Dumbledore said, trying to keep his voice equally low during the start of term feast. "I will make sure that your mission is provided for after I've died."

"Assuming I'll be able to do anything once I've done what I may have to do," the professor seethed back. "I'll be isolated from the only people whose respect I desire." He could see the Gryffindors watching their conversation, and scowled fiercely at them, hoping that none of them could lip-read. They hurriedly returned to their dinner, though the Potter boy occasionally glanced up at them.

"We'll work something out," the headmaster replied. "Not to worry, Severus. But we'll talk about it some other time."

"I suppose I'll have to work quickly in a year," was the acerbic, hissed reply. "You always ask too much of me, Dumbledore. Far too much. More than the Dark Lord asks of me." He stood abruptly and left the table, his robes sweeping behind him as he stormed out the teachers' entrance.

Albus Dumbledore sighed, and returned to his dinner. With his imminent death, he had hoped that there would be _less_ drama in the lead-up. However, with Severus Snape around, drama always abounded.

**

* * *

**

Hmm. What do you think of this chapter? I hope the mathematics wasn't too involved. More to the point, I hope to Dickens that it was right. Any mathematicians out there who wish to correct me? I'm happy to listen and correct.

**My own work, I mean. Not your calculations. I wouldn't dare.**


	10. Learning Time

"Learning Time"

"_We'll work something out," the headmaster replied. "Not to worry, Severus. But we'll talk about it some other time."_

"_I suppose I'll have to work quickly in a year," was the acerbic, hissed reply. "You always ask too much of me, Dumbledore. Far too much. More than the Dark Lord asks of me." He stood abruptly and left the table, his robes sweeping behind him as he stormed out the teachers' entrance._

_Albus Dumbledore sighed, and returned to his dinner. With his imminent death, he had hoped that there would be less drama in the lead-up. However, with Severus Snape around, drama always abounded._

First class for the Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth years was Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Snape. He was distracted, but not so as anyone would notice. The truth was, he had been up all night making a detailed plan of attack for trying to find out how to release the prisoners of the Veil. A Pepper-Up Potion had given him the energy that he needed to face the first day of classes. Trust it to be the one that Granger would have been in if she was still around.

The students weren't answering questions; at least, not correctly. Even the insufferable know-it-all's textbook answers would be a wonderful respite. His temper grew shorter and shorter as the lesson wore on. How could he stand this every period that he had this class? How hard was it to describe 'non-verbal magic'? It was magic _not spoken out loud_!

Dunderheads. Add to that the stupid idea that Dumbledore had of re-starting that bloody duelling club. Menacing, manipulative…

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron were worried when they were given their first assignment. Snape was such a hard taskmaster. They'd really have to work.

Ugh. They couldn't _wait_ for Hogsmeade weekend. It could never come fast enough…

* * *

"We approve of your suggestion," the Judges chorused, and Lewis sighed, relieved for Hermione's (and Sirius') sake. Sure, he probably should have gone for six-five; but, knowing the Judges of the Veil the way he did, they would never have accepted it. He was just grateful that they had acquiesced to this suggestion.

"Eighteen hour days will begin as of tomorrow," Two told him. "Special clocks shall be placed in their quarters, and they shall also be provided with watches. We shall magic the clocks; you may summon the watches in your office. You may also give them the good news."

"Thank you for your wise and gracious judgement," Lewis said, and he bowed deeply, before leaving the room. He returned to his grey-and-brown room where Hermione and Sirius had found him after they had entered the Veil. He closed the Book of the Veil, and banished it. The next item on the agenda was to 'create' the watches. He thought carefully about what he wanted, picturing the watches in his mind, and tapped the spare space on his desk with his quill three times, just as he had to summon the book.

Two matching watches appeared. He hoped that Hermione would approve, and think them tasteful. Sirius, the ungrateful wretch, would just have to make do. Oh! He needed calendars for them as well. He summoned enough calendars for their rooms. Picking up all the items, he carried them out of another door, which lead him directly to the courtyard that he had designed. From there, he ventured to the common room, where he found Hermione curled in one of the three armchairs, reading, Sirius sitting sullenly in another. Lewis cleared his throat, and Hermione looked up with a smile. Sirius just glared at him.

"I've got a watch for each of you," the Curate said, and he held them up. Hermione jumped up eagerly.

"Thank you, Lewis!" she exclaimed, and he placed the things on the coffee table. He picked up her watch, and slipped it onto her wrist for her. She admired the timepiece while he gave Sirius his watch.

"There are calendars here, as well," Lewis continued. "One for each room. I hope that you find everything to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, thank you," Hermione said. Damn. She was being seduced by their world already. He couldn't let that happen. She only had the equivalent of nine months of 'Earth-time' before she _technically _came of age in their world. He had to tell them. At least he used wandless magic as effortlessly as the most talented wizard used a wand. He couldn't be disarmed. And least, not by magic.

"I must tell you something about what will happen overnight," he admitted, and they both gave him their absolute attention. "As you know, the time here doesn't match the outside world, and that is for a reason. They cannot run parallel. Therefore, the Judges decided to speed up your ageing process, rather than slowing it, so that you'll come of age quicker."

"How Slytherin," Sirius said, gritting his teeth. Hermione paled.

"How… how much faster?" she asked, and she swallowed.

"As of tomorrow morning, you'll be living eighteen-hour days," Lewis said, looking at his feet guiltily. "You'll come of age within nine months of your usual time. Every four days here will be the equivalent of three days out there."

"But that… that wouldn't _change_ anything… would it?" Hermione asked, fear in her eyes. "After all, if we're working on the basis that I was born outside of the Veil, then I'd only come of age out there. In that case, wouldn't it serve their purposes better to make time outside f…"

Lewis clapped a hand over her mouth, gesturing for her to be quiet with the other. He looked around, and leaned in to whisper in her ear, loud enough for Sirius to hear.

"I'll explain everything tomorrow," he said quietly. "They cannot reset the time once it's done. Let's just say… they're not as bright as they seem." He winked, and left the room, a spring in his step. Damn, he was a good actor. They'd find out just how good as time went on.

Oh, yes. You didn't live in such a hellishly monotonous place without developing certain, Slytherin-like tendencies. He could almost give Albus Dumbledore a run for his money when it came to the mastery of manipulation.

* * *

"This damn assignment," Ron muttered. It had been three weeks since they had returned to Hogwarts, and he and Harry hadn't been doing so well. The wake they had for Hermione was supposed to be a happy occasion, celebrating her life at Hogwarts just among her fellow students, those she knew best. But they were emotional wrecks at the moment, and it was affecting their work more than the lack of Hermione's editing was.

"We'll never graduate," Harry said, groaning as he held his head in his hands. "We need to get a bunch of us together to study. Like a study group."

"You think?" Ron said irritably. Oh, for Hermione's mediating skills! "Let's just go and play Quidditch."

"Oka… no! Hermione would never approve. I'm determined to do well for her sake. She worked so hard to make _us_ work hard. I say we organise a study group. Dumbledore wants to start up a duelling club again, obviously more successful than the one Lockhart started. We've got to do well. And with that book—the Half-Blood Prince's book—I'm doing better in Potions. Look, I'll write in the amendments that he made, write them into your book. Maybe we'll get more Felix Felicis?"

"Dunno what Hermione would think of following non-textbook instructions. Ah well. Could do. All right. Thanks, Harry."

"Right now," the black-haired boy said, "we need to create study plans."

Ron groaned. Study plans. Fantastic. _Not_.

* * *

Sirius cleared his throat not long after Lewis left. Hermione glanced up from her book to meet his enquiring gaze.

"What?" she asked.

"You do realise that he fancies you, don't you?" he said, smiling smugly when her eyes widened.

"Of course he doesn't!" she said. "I'm only fifteen!"

"Nearly sixteen. Seventeen in nine months."

"He's probably just lonely," she replied. "And I still don't see the logic in the time-setting. Oh well. We'll find out more about it tomorrow. In fact, I'm going to finish this book, return it to the library, and then go to bed. Time seems to be moving so slowly. I've been reading for ages… oh! I hope you haven't been bored. Have you, Sirius?"

"Yes," he said sulkily.

"But there's alcohol now," she said, and Sirius snorted.

"Hermione, let me give you some advice," he said, leaning forward in his chair. She lowered the book the rest of the way, ready to listen. "_Never_ drink out of boredom."

"Then do something useful such as _reading_," she retorted. "We may find an answer a bit quicker if you're helping."

"What if I missed something vitally important?" he asked, waving his hands around as if they would help to illustrate his point.

"Go and play in your room," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Try out different designs or something. Maybe you'll fall asleep quicker that way. You'll need your energy for tomorrow."

"Fine then. Will you go to bed soon?"

"After I've finished the book. Good night, Sirius."

"Good night, Hermione."

**

* * *

**

We'll get less of Lewis and more of the relationship between Hermione and Sirius soon, I promise. Unless you all like him so much that you want to keep hearing about him. Let me know.


	11. When Morning Breaks

"When Morning Breaks"

"_Hermione, let me give you some advice," he said, leaning forward in his chair. She lowered the book the rest of the way, ready to listen. "Never drink out of boredom."_

"_Then do something useful such as reading," she retorted. "We may find an answer a bit quicker if you're helping."_

"_What if I missed something vitally important?" he asked, waving his hands around as if they would help to illustrate his point._

"_Go and play in your room," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Try out different designs or something. Maybe you'll fall asleep quicker that way. You'll need your energy for tomorrow."_

"_Fine then. Will you go to bed soon?"_

"_After I've finished the book. Good night, Sirius."_

"_Good night, Hermione."_

Hermione checked her watched when she awoke, and then her calendar. The time had supposedly caught up with the outside world. It was the sixteenth of September—three days until her birthday—which meant that Hogwarts had been in session for over three weeks. Was she missed that much? Were Harry and Ron coping without her help?

Of course they're coping, she scolded herself. They weren't stupid. They just needed to learn to think for themselves, learn to correct their own work. With their penchant for getting into trouble, surely they didn't suppose that she would be around forever?

What a sad thought.

It was quarter to eight in the morning, and Hermione wondered if Sirius was up yet. The minute hand certainly seemed as though it was moving just a _tad_ faster, but perhaps she just saw that because she _knew _that it would be going faster.

She went straight to the library after she got out of bed, still in the pyjamas she had found in the dressing table. They were bright blue, and made of satin; a short-sleeved pyjama shirt, and pyjama shorts. She returned the book, having finished it the night before, and considered the next book that she would like to read. Perhaps one from the top shelf?

However, it was extremely difficult to reach. She drew her wand, but Summoning the book didn't work. She'd just have to settle for one lower down, and instead picked one from the bottom shelf.

Damn it, it wasn't as though Sirius was stupid! He had _supposedly_ received good marks in school; although, with all the pranking the Marauders had done, she wondered how it was possible. No. He was just being lazy. Berk.

"Problem?" someone asked. Hermione turned, and saw him in the doorway. Trust Sirius Black to be wearing nothing but Gryffindor-maroon pyjama trousers. Well, she assumed that he was wearing something under them.

"Not now," she said, holding up her book. "I've chosen the next reading matter."

"Ah," he said, looking down. "About that… I've picked a course of action."

"Sirius, I was just tired…"

"No, you're right," he said, holding up a hand. "You heard what Lewis said. We'd have time to explore later. Well, I'm going to start exploring. There may be a way out of here that isn't found in any book. I'm an ex-Marauder. I know what I'm doing when it comes to finding things like that." He let out a bark of laughter, and Hermione smiled in relief.

"Just as long as you're occupied, that's great," she said. "Do you remember if there were any benches in the garden outside?"

"I saw the way you were looking at that place yesterday," he said, his eyes glittering in amusement. "Admit it, `Mione. You wouldn't get any reading done out there."

"But I want to enjoy the scenery as much as I can," she said softly. "I don't know how long it might take to get through these books. You see how I'm conflicted. We have to find a way out of here as soon as possible. I'm turning sixteen in three days. That will only leave me one year. And, as Lewis said… Lewis. He's visiting us this morning. We need to get dressed! I need a shower, and we need to have breakfast…"

"Go and get ready, then," Sirius said. "I'll put the book in your room. There are robes in the bathroom, one for each of us. You can get dressed afterwards. Then I'll work out something for breakfast. Sound good?"

Hermione nodded, and they parted ways.

* * *

"Hermione's birthday is only three days away," Ginny mused during their study group that Sunday morning. She, Luna, Colin, and the other fifth years all had their O. in the middle of next year, and had decided to start studying early like Hermione used to do. "We should do something in memory of her."

"A picnic by her memorial," Colin suggested, and the girls both beamed at him.

"Well done, Colin!" the redhead exclaimed, clapping him on the back.

"All of Dumbledore's Army should be invited," Luna said thoughtfully, and she drew out a blank piece of parchment. "We shall have to ask Professor Dumbledore's permission, of course."

"I'm sure he'll say 'yes'," Ginny said. Colin was still beaming, pleased that he had come up with such a popular idea. He hoped everyone else would think that it was good as well. He didn't often have ideas like this.

"I'll take pictures," he offered, and the girls wrote that down, now doing more planning than studying. Colin discreetly closed and pushed away the books, answering the girls' queries every so often. Pity they didn't have a Hogsmeade weekend before them. Still, the house elves would happily make some wicked desserts for them. Well, Dobby would, anyway. Hermione hadn't exactly been popular with the house elves during the S.P.E.W campaign.

"What's going on?" Ron asked as he and Harry approached the table.

"Colin's had a great idea," Luna said, looking up at them dreamily. "A picnic at Hermione's memorial on her birthday."

"Sounds good," Harry said. "Who's invited?"

"Who do you think?" Ginny asked with a smile, and she handed him the list of what they had worked out so far. He nodded in approval, and they arranged to meet later that evening to have a proper meeting with everyone to discuss the arrangements. They only had three days. Luna would sleep on the couch in the common room if it got too late for her to return to the Ravenclaw tower.

"Oh, and I'll ask Dumbledore," he said. "He's most likely to say 'yes' to me."

They all agreed that that was true.

* * *

It was ten o'clock by the time Hermione and Sirius were both eating breakfast, fully dressed and ready to start the day. Lewis turned up, chipper as can be.

"Good morning!" he called as he entered the kitchen-dining room.

"Hello, Lewis," Hermione greeted in return. "Want an omelette?"

"I live in the part of the Veil where we don't need to eat or drink," he said, almost sadly. "I promised that I'd come, and I have. It's about the time difference, if you'd prefer to call it that."

"Well, I wanted to know why it was made quicker on this side of the Veil," she said, shrugging. "It just seems illogical. I mean, the same number of days will pass; it's just that my birthday will come quicker here. But I wasn't born in the Veil, so surely that would make a difference?"

"You're absolutely right," Lewis said, nodding. "You see, the Judges… well, as I said last night, mathematics is _not_ their strong point, despite their 'names'. Also, they are not as aware of the rules of the Veil as I am. After all, I wrote most of them."

"What?" Sirius spluttered, choking on his pumpkin juice.

"Not the one about the purification of the Veil through marriage," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm the one who's made as many provisos as possible. I am not as insensitive to your situation as you think, Mr. Black. I have seen my fair share of tragedy, and have done my utmost to prevent as many… 'sticky situations' as I can."

"I'm sure you have," Hermione said, and she stood to begin washing her dishes. Sirius hadn't yet finished, but he was close enough for her to start. Lewis stood nearby, watching this act of domesticity, and wondering why all marriages couldn't be this… pleasant. Not that they were married yet. "But you were saying?"

"Ah yes. Well, if you are born in the outside world, you age according to that time… no, there's a better way of putting this. While you will age a bit sooner here, the fact that you were born outside of the Veil means that you cannot be recognised as being of that age here until you are that age out there."

"Oh," she said, frowning as she placed her plate on the drying rack beside the sink. He picked up a tea towel and began to dry it. "You don't have to do that, Lewis!"

"I'm just being helpful, and giving myself something to do while explaining things," he said. "Now, where was I? That's right. For example, in just over four years time _here_, you will be twenty. But outside, you will be nineteen. One year difference. Within _eight_ years time, that different will be two years; and so on, and so forth. But you won't be twenty here when you are nineteen out there."

"I won't be here at all, either way," Hermione pointed out, and Lewis nodded.

"Quite," he said, and he slowed in his drying a bit. He picked up speed again almost immediately, drying with vigour. Sirius brought his dishes over, and watched as Hermione washed and Lewis dried.

* * *

"What a splendid idea, Harry," Dumbledore said when The-Boy-Who-Lived approached him after lunchtime. "I wish I'd thought of it myself. Congratulate Mr. Creevey for me, would you?"

"Does this mean that we can have the picnic, sir?" he asked, and the headmaster reassured him that that was _exactly_ what he meant. Then he continued on his way down to the dungeons while Harry leapt up the stairs to get his book for Transfiguration.

"How's the book hunt going, Severus?" he said without preamble as the defence professor led him into his study. He had been happy to stay down near his Slytherins, and let Slughorn have a room higher up in the school.

"There's not much I can find on the Veil, and the Ministry is being singularly unhelpful," he complained. "Perhaps you could have a word with them, headmaster?"

"Of course, my dear boy, of course. What angle are you taking?"

"What angle is there _to_ take? Why? Do you know something I don't?" Professor Snape's eyes flashed dangerously. Had the headmaster been keeping important things from him? Again?

"I'm afraid not, Severus," Dumbledore said, and he sighed. "At least, nothing concrete. I could speak with some of my contacts, but I'm afraid that no one seems to know anything about it so far."

"Damn Unspeakables."

"I agree. Well, some of the students are planning a picnic in honour of Hermione's birthday in…"

"…three days' time. I know when it is."

"Are you coming, then?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Funnily enough, yes."

"…Then I'm coming."

**

* * *

**

*Author sitting there, proverbially twiddling her thumbs. That just sounds wrong, actually. Author rolls her eyes in disgust and amusement, equal amounts.*


	12. To Begin Research

"To Begin Research"

"_Damn Unspeakables."_

"_I agree. Well, some of the students are planning a picnic in honour of Hermione's birthday in…"_

"…_three days' time. I know when it is."_

"_Are you coming, then?"_

"_Do I have a choice?"_

"_Funnily enough, yes."_

"…_Then I'm coming."_

Professor Snape had his own library, one of darker books, to read. He started with that, as the Veil looked almost hellish, and no doubt contained some kind of dark magic. He had begun with a history book which went back almost six centuries, a Self-Inking Quill and reams of parchment ready for taking notes.

Nothing.

He continued through his collection of books during the holidays, and had to bring some back with him from Spinner's End. By the time the new term started, he was down to his last four books. These were quickly read within the first few weeks, and he only had a few pages left to go of the last one when it was finally time for the picnic. He sighed, memorised the page number, and started to set down the book.

On second thoughts, he took it with him. If he got insanely bored at the picnic, and only stayed for the food, he would do well to have something there to read; not to mention how topical his research was.

"Ah! Severus," Dumbledore said, approaching him, holding a cup of pumpkin juice. "So glad you could make it. You brought a book with you?"

"The last one from my collection," he told the headmaster icily. "I'm here as a token gesture, and don't see why I shouldn't get some reading done. No doubt Miss Granger would have approved… _will_ approve."

"That's the spirit, my boy," he replied. "Now, go and get something to eat and drink, and then we can talk about what you've learned so far."

"Yes, I can see how this would be time-consuming, when I've learned a grand total of _nothing_," Professor Snape replied, sneering, and he left a surprised Dumbledore to go over to the snack and drink tables. Many of the students looked surprised at his appearance there, and assumed that the headmaster had insisted on his presence. Ginny thanked him for being there nonetheless, as did Luna. Everyone else was either too scared to, or just hated him too much to thank him for anything.

"This is my kind of social event," he muttered as he took a seat on one of the chairs placed there for staff. He drew out his book, and finished it, taking occasional sips of his juice, and even more infrequent bites of the cheese and vegetables he had taken as snacks. No sweets for him.

"That's done," he said at the end of the book, slamming it shut. Several people nearby, both staff and students, jumped at the loud sound. He glared at them, annoyed that his books had failed him for the first time in his life. He drained the rest of his drink, bit off half of his last carrot stick, and stood, stretching out the kinks. As soon as he was finished, he set off back to the castle, and headed straight for his dungeons, working out the next stage of his plan. Hogwarts library versus the Ministry library. Where should he start?

* * *

It was Hermione's birthday. She spent most of the morning torn between crying over the fact that her friends weren't with her, and had probably presumed her dead, and reading to hide her tears and distract herself. Sirius had left her partway through the morning, as he wanted to explore their new world some more. She curled up in the library, preferring to sit on the plush carpet and lean against the seat of the armchair. Lewis joined her after awhile, and sat the same way, leaning against the seat of the other chair.

"Hi," he said, more informal than usual. Hermione looked up and smiled at him.

"Hello, Lewis," she said. "How are you today?"

"As well as usual," he replied. "My status never changes here."

"I'm… sorry?" she said, not quite sure if she should be or not. He laughed.

"Hermione, I'm never sick, so I think it's a good thing," he said. She shook her head.

"It means that you haven't built up a resistance to certain colds and such," she said, and he arched an eyebrow. "So it's not _that_ good."

"I haven't _always_ lived in the Veil," he said. "I may have been created by it… but even the greatest novels are based on truth somewhere, aren't they?"

"Yes, that's true," she replied, nodding, now curious about his origins, but not willing to ask him.

"Remember, don't spend too much time in here," he said, nodding at her book. "It's your birthday. You should spend it in the garden at some point."

"I love reading…"

"Yes, but you also love that garden, I think," he said, tilting his head to the left. "You certainly seemed… taken with it when you first arrived."

"Well, it's a very pretty place," she said, ducking her head as she tried to hide her grin at the memory.

"I'll leave you to your reading, but remember: time goes faster here. And you seem like the type to get caught up in a book, and forget everything else. I'll send Sirius to find you if it's getting late, all right?"

"All right. See you later, Lewis."

"Until then, Hermione." He lifted her hand before standing, and pressed his lips to it gently. She blushed like she had last time, and he smiled as he left the room.

* * *

"What do you think he was doing here?" Ron asked Neville.

"I'm just glad he's gone now, and I can relax properly," he replied. "He may have been reading, but he could still have struck at any moment."

"That's scarily true."

"He was just forced into coming here," Harry said, startling them both. He had been with Ginny, standing near the memorial. Now he was done with being sad. "Snape never liked her, just because she was with us, and smarter than any of his Slytherins. Though I would have thought that Dumbledore wouldn't want to force his company on us, and spoil the day."

SNAP! Colin had just taken a photo nearby, and Ron spilt his drink on the front of his shirt when he jumped.

"Bleedin' `ell, Colin!" he shouted. "Give us some warning, would you?"

"Sorry!" he called back in a sing-song voice as he waited for the photo to come out.

"`Ello, boys," Hagrid said, and they turned around.

"Hi, Hagrid."

"Hello, Hagrid."

"How are things?"

"Oh, fine," he said, answering Ron's question. "I woulda brough' Fang with me, only `e might `ave created `avoc with all the food around. But it's bin a lovely day fer a picnic, `asn't it?"

They agreed, and continued to snack as they reminisced about their favourite times with Hermione.

* * *

Indeed, Sirius did have to pull Hermione away from the library, and out into the garden. He led her along, following the little brook part of the way, until they reached a table that was set in the middle of a secret glade. Lewis was waiting there for them, underneath a magical silver banner that read 'Happy birthday, Hermione!'

"Hello again," he said, and Hermione beamed at both men.

"Thank you," she said, and she hugged herself in delight, her eyes shining as she took in the sight of the shady trees with rays of sun sneaking through the leaves, the gentle sound of flowing water, and the scent of the flowers mingling with the smell of the chocolate birthday cake.

"This is for you, from me," Lewis said, and he handed Hermione a present. She smiled at him, and unwrapped the bulky gift carefully. She gasped when out fell a silken travelling cape, black with white embroidery around the collar, and a silk cord to tie the cape around her neck. She gave Lewis a big hug and a kiss, thanking him for the present, and he held her put it on.

"And this is from me," Sirius told her, giving her a box with a bow on top. Hermione opened it, and found that it held two things: one, a lion pin for the cloak; and two, a necklace that matched the watch. She thanked him the same way she had Lewis, and Sirius helped her put on the necklace while she donned the pin. She spun around, letting the cloak flow out behind her.

"This is wonderful," she said, blinking back happy tears.

"And now for your birthday cake," the Curate said, handing her a knife. He picked up a camera from nearby, and stood back as Hermione cut the cake. He took a picture of that moment, and a picture of the moment that Hermione gave Sirius a kiss on the nose for having 'touched the bottom' of the cake.

"I like that tradition," the Animagus remarked, and they spent the rest of the evening celebrating Hermione's sweet sixteenth.

**

* * *

**

As this story has longer chapters than any of my others, it will be the most difficult to finish each day now that I'm back at uni. So I apologise in advance—as I have been doing in some of my other stories—for any delays in posting. I've done pretty well so far, I've thought.


	13. A Week Passed

"A Week Passed…"

"_This is wonderful," she said, blinking back happy tears._

"_And now for your birthday cake," the Curate said, handing her a knife. He picked up a camera from nearby, and stood back as Hermione cut the cake. He took a picture of that moment, and a picture of the moment that Hermione gave Sirius a kiss on the nose for having 'touched the bottom' of the cake._

"_I like that tradition," the Animagus remarked, and they spent the rest of the evening celebrating Hermione's sweet sixteenth._

A week passed, and Hermione was feeling a bit better. She was getting to read lots of books, even though she was frustrated by the fact that she had less time than usual to read before she had to go to bed. Lewis visited them often, and had framed the photographs he and Sirius had taken. Hermione wore her cape whenever she ventured outside, sometimes to help Sirius explore, sometimes just to visit the garden. She also wore the jewellery every evening.

"How did you get the necklace and clasp?" she had asked Sirius the day after her birthday, over breakfast. They were doing the dishes.

"How did Lewis get the watches and calendars?" he asked back, and she nodded in understanding.

"Ah," she said. "His study. You came up with them there."

"Yes," Sirius replied. "I… I would have spent the money, Hermione. Only here, well, I haven't got…"

"I know, Sirius, and it's fine," she said. "I'll have to do the same for you, won't I? When your birthday comes? And Christmas, for that matter. It will be difficult to give a present to Lewis, since only he can operate the room."

"You want to get him a present?" he asked, surprised, nearly dropping the plate he was drying. "Does he even have a birthday?"

"It's worth asking!" Hermione said sharply. "For Christmas, at least."

"You could always make him something," Sirius suggested, shrugging as he reached for the glass Hermione had just finished. "You just need to ask for a lot of craft supplies. You may even be able to 'think up' something in your bedroom."

"Think up!" she exclaimed. "That's it, Sirius! I'll be back in a minute. In case I don't return, I've tried to think of an escape in my room, and have been successful. Give it, say, five minutes. How long would that be outside? Let's see… five minutes is three hundred seconds… so we're working from _four_ hundred seconds…"

"Fascinating," Sirius muttered, amused, as Hermione continued to speak.

"Four hundred… three hundred and sixty is six minutes… six minutes and forty seconds!" she finished triumphantly.

"Okay, okay," he said, flicking her behind with the tea towel. She looked at him, scandalised, and he chuckled. "Go and try out your theory. I'll meet you outside in six and a half minutes."

"Six minutes and forty…"

"I'm an impatient man, Miss Granger," he said, and he nudged her away. "I'll finish the dishes in that time. Call me if you need me."

"Okay," she said, and she hurried off to her bedroom.

"Mental child," he said quietly, and he turned back to the drying.

* * *

"I must say, Potter," Professor Snape said, handing back Harry's assignment. "It was most unfortunate, but I was unable to give you a 'T'. I'm afraid you made an 'Acceptable'."

"Thank you, sir!" Harry said, hardly able to believe his luck.

"Clearly you know something about defence," the professor replied. "Must be last year's illicit teaching exercise."

"Must be," Harry said, trying to hide his smirk. The teacher rolled his eyes, and handed over Ron's essay. "You just scraped a 'Pass', Weasley. Don't keep up the good work. Give me something to look forward to."

"Don't worry, Professor," Neville dared to pipe up. "You've still got to mark my essays."

"How very true, Longbottom," Professor Snape said slowly. "However, I hate to spoil a perfect record." Neville's assignment had received a 'Pass minus', and he sighed in relief.

"Must be shagging someone," Dean muttered to Seamus. "It's the only reason for his good mood." Professor Snape heard him, and was thoroughly angered by the comment. He swept up to their desk, and loudly planted his hands in front of the two Gryffindors, leaning close.

"Another insinuation such as that, Mr. Thomas," he said quietly, and the whole class listened, "and I will issue you with a troll. And I'm not talking about the grade." Dean gulped, and quickly muttered an apology. "I didn't hear that, Mr. Thomas."

"I said… 'I'm sorry, Professor Snape'," he said a bit louder, and Professor Snape smirked.

"That's better," he said. "However, detention with Mr. Filch every night for the rest of the week. I never wish to hear you—or _about_ you—making remarks like that about a Hogwarts professor again."

"So a Durmstrang teacher is fair game?" Blaise called out, and the professor raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, Mr. Zabini," he drawled. "Now, eyes to the front, everyone." He magicked the rest of the essays to everyone else, deciding not to waste any more time. Once this class was over, he could have a quick dinner, and then return to the fascinating book he had found in the Ministry of Magic's library. Dumbledore had gained him access, after much coercion, and he was making as much use of it as he could. That was the real reason for his good mood.

* * *

Well, the room just wasn't being co-operative. It was refusing to give her an exit. She managed to 'imagine up' a window; but when she tried to open it, it turned out just to be for show, unable to be opened. Thinking that she had to imagine an open window, she tried that. But that didn't work at all.

With a cry of frustration, she kicked the foot of her bed, and had to hop around for a bit in pain. She made it to the door in time for Sirius to fling it open. She fell into his arms, and had to push against him to stand properly.

"Sorry," she said, gingerly placing her foot on the floor. She limped a couple of steps.

"Didn't work, did it?" Sirius asked.

"No," Hermione replied sullenly.

"Still, it was a good thought," he said. "Maybe Lewis knows how the room works."

"I thought you didn't like him?"

"I don't; but he has his uses, and you seem to like him. But do you have a crush on him?"

"What? No! I don't have a crush on anyone. H-how can I tell?" she asked, looking at her feet.

"Oh, Merlin. Didn't you girls all fancy that Lockhart bloke at one point?"

"Yes," she muttered shamefully, blushing.

"Well, that's what it feels like," he said, very unhelpfully.

"Oh, thank you, wise one," she said. "Are you going to try your room? You may think of something that I haven't tried."

"Okay," he said, shrugging. Then he grinned. "Are you going to wait for six minutes and forty seconds?"

"That's for outside, not in here!" she said.

"What would it be outside if it was six minutes and forty seconds in h…"

"In! Get in!" she shouted, laughing as she pushed him to his room. "If you're not back in five minutes, I'll start to worry."

"What about six minutes and thirty…"

"Sirius." The warning in that one name was clear, and Sirius wisely shut up, and Hermione waited in the living room, checking her watch.

"Hello, `Mione!" Lewis called, entering the room. He was a changed person from the man they had first met. Hermione could swear that he was getting younger, but knew that that was impossible.

"How are you, Lewis?" she asked.

"So-so," he said. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Sirius is trying something in his bedroom," she said, and Lewis' eyes widened.

"W-what's that?" he asked apprehensively.

"Well, we're able to make whatever we want appear in our bedrooms, and… well, I tried to make an escape from the Veil appear in my room, but… it didn't work. Clearly. So Sirius is trying it in his room. I suppose it would help if we knew what an escape portal looked like," she added, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes.

"I'm afraid I can't help you there," he said. "If I knew what it looked like, I'd help you. However…"

"However?" she prompted

"Once you turn of age, you'll have a week in which to marry," he began. "If they show you the portal through which you'll leave _before_ you marry, then you can attempt to replicate it in one of your bedrooms."

"If all else fails, could we try it in your study? You can make things appear there…"

"Only using a quill on the desk, from what I've tried," he said. "I've never needed anything else. One can hardly summon a portal, can one?"

"No," she agreed.

"I'm back," Sirius said, entering the room. "Unsuccessful. Obviously."

"So…" Lewis said. They looked at him. "What's plan B?"

* * *

Damn. He had been so sure that this book would hold the answers. All it did was waffle on about how evil the Veil was, and how no one had ever emerged from it. The only strange thing was that death records never appeared for those who went through, which gave him some hope. He owled the Ministry to find out if Hermione's death certificate had appeared; in the meantime, he'd check through the Hogwarts library.

Once he had sent the message from the owlery, he hurried downstairs. Madame Pince didn't think that there were any books specifically on the Veil, and recommended that he try the Restricted Section, and look under magical materials. He thanked her for her help, and ended up finding three books that may help. He borrowed them, and returned to the dungeons to start on the new angle of research. He looked at the essays he had yet to mark, feeling only a tad guilty. Next time he was _definitely_ going to set shorter assignments.

**

* * *

**

I always hate a thirteenth chapter. It worries me, despite the fact that thirteen generally isn't an unlucky number for me. It's just one of my more irrational superstitions. In fact, probably my only irrational superstition.


	14. Hogwarts Complexities

"Hogwarts Complexities"

_Damn. He had been so sure that this book would hold the answers. All it did was waffle on about how evil the Veil was, and how no one had ever emerged from it. The only strange thing was that death records never appeared for those who went through, which gave him some hope. He owled the Ministry to find out if Hermione's death certificate had appeared; in the meantime, he'd check through the Hogwarts library._

_Once he had sent the message from the owlery, he hurried downstairs. Madame Pince didn't think that there were any books specifically on the Veil, and recommended that he try the Restricted Section, and look under magical materials. He thanked her for her help, and ended up finding three books that may help. He borrowed them, and returned to the dungeons to start on the new angle of research. He looked at the essays he had yet to mark, feeling only a tad guilty. Next time he was definitely going to set shorter assignments._

Blasted book. If the Dark Lord hadn't been going after such a rare volume, Hermione wouldn't have snatched it away from Rabastan, and she wouldn't have had to jump through that damned Veil. At least he knew that she wasn't dead, though he wouldn't tell anyone yet; not even Dumbledore. No point in raising anybody's hopes if they were just going to be dashed. After all, there was the risk that she was in some kind of oblivion, and couldn't be brought back. Neither living nor dead.

Then there was that duelling club. Dumbledore had muttered something to him about naming it after Hermione; but he couldn't think of any appropriate name with a ring to it that could possibly include her name. He suggested that they just create a room named in her honour, and use it only for the duelling club.

The headmaster almost bounced with delight at the suggestion, and immediately announced it to the entire student body, as they were eating dinner at that moment. He remembered in time not to mention that Professor Snape had thought of it. No use raising suspicions about him, was there?

"First session of the duelling club tomorrow night," he reminded them. "We'll announce at dinner beforehand where it will take place. By then, the room should be set up. See you then."

* * *

The last two days had spent trying everything they could in Lewis' office, and even their bedrooms again. Everything from windows and doors to keys and books had been tried, and nothing had worked. No escape had been found. Lewis had given Hermione the Book of the Veil to see if she could come up with an answer; but as soon as the Judges found out, they came and took it away from her, and reprimanded the Curate.

"So much for plan _C_," Sirius said, draped over his armchair in the living area. Hermione was sitting, knees bunched up in front of her, holding them as though they were some kind of lifesaver.

"I want to go home," she murmured. His gaze slid over to her, and he looked her up and down.

"I know," he said. "But this is our new home now. You must accept that."

"Why? Why must I?" she asked unreasonably.

"Think of it as an educational experience," he said, giving her a wry smile.

Hermione laughed. "You'd think that that'd make things better, wouldn't you? The know-it-all bookworm who thinks of everything as a learning curve, and is therefore excited by the prospect. Tell me, Sirius. Does everyone think that way?"

He looked surprised. "No, I shouldn't think so. I was just trying to make you feel a bit better." She nodded. "Hermione… marry me. It'll get us out of here, and then we can…"

"Sirius, there's no divorce in the wizarding world," she said. "I'm not the kind of girl who would be comfortable conducting affairs while she's married, just because she had to marry for convenience. Nor am I the kind of girl who would like her husband bringing home one-night stands because he's in a loveless marriage. It's kind of you to offer, but let's just try our best to escape. We've still got at least nine months, a year if Lewis is right."

He sighed, and fiddled with the pattern on his armchair. "Well, I'd probably go straight back to Azkaban as it is, so you wouldn't have to worry about that. I've never been cleared of all charges. And it's not like we would have married in the wizarding world. But I'm willing to give you time to think about it. Don't throw the idea away so quickly. There may come a time when we'll be needed outside _before_ you come of age, a time when we need to join the others in battle. We may need to marry then."

"You're right," she said. "How could I be so selfish?"

"We can at least use the element of surprise if we wait until then," Sirius said. "I'm going to search for other people tomorrow."

"Good luck with that," she replied, smiling at him sadly before returning to stare into the flames in their fireplace.

* * *

"Without the 'help' of Gilderoy Lockhart, we ought to have more success this time around," Professor Snape told the students dryly. Dumbledore was there to make sure that the fighting didn't get out of hand, whether between the DADA professor and the students, or between the students themselves. "I expect those who were part of the… unofficial duelling club last year to do well. After all, they had Mr. Potter's expert teaching skills," he added with a sneer, and Harry rolled his eyes when the professor looked away. "Now, out of curiosity, how about we get Blaise up here—now, Blaise, not next year—and, let's see… Weasley. The male one. Up here, now."

Once the boys were standing opposite each other on the duelling platform—not too high, just in case someone was blasted off—Professor Snape leapt lithely onto the floor, making some of the female students gasped at his surprising dexterity, and many of the male students' eyes widen.

Well, really, he thought, amused, how do they think I've survived as a Death Eater all these years if I can't move like that?

He smirked, and indicated that the boys should bow to each other.

"Wait until I tell you to turn; _do not_ turn before then," he instructed, and they walked almost to the ends of the platform. "Wait for it… wait for it… wait for—TURN!"

Weasley had surprisingly quick reflexes. Well, he _was_ the new Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Blaise was knocked backwards with a Disarming Spell, echoing the professor's own duel with Lockhart four years ago. The Weasley boy smirked, and raised an eyebrow at Professor Snape for approval. He nodded once, and Blaise shot up off the ground. One of the Slytherin fourth years had caught his wand, and handed it back. Blaise snarled, and immediately struck a duelling stance again. He waved his wand, and shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!"

"Protego!" Ron bellowed, brandishing his own wand, and blocking the spell just in time.

"That's enough," Professor Snape said mildly, his voice just loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room—and, more to the point, obeyed. He didn't want his student to be humiliated any more by a Gryffindor, and a Weasley at that. Particularly as the Weasley in question was best friends with Harry Potter. He indicated that they should leave the platform, and searched the crowd with only his eyes. Draco was good at duelling. And Longbottom… well, he probably wasn't as good. Now was as good a time as any to try him out. He pointed at both of them, and then at the platform.

Damn. Longbottom was doing quite well. He'd been hit with a couple of spells, but Draco suffered the most damage. Dumbledore appeared to be enjoying himself far too much, and after several more duels, Professor Snape called an end to the session.

"Yes, yes, well done," he said, and he dismissed the students, until he and the headmaster were the only ones left in the room. "Tonight was a success, wasn't it?" he asked, and when Dumbledore nodded, beaming, he groaned. "And I suppose this means that it has to continue, doesn't it?" Another nod. "Fantastic," he muttered sarcastically.

"Don't sound so enthused," the headmaster advised. "People might start to think that you mean it."

* * *

"Hermione! Hermione! Where are you?"

"In the library, Sirius! What's the matter?"

"Come with me," he said, bursting into the library. She was sitting there, reading. He grabbed her hand, and she had to pull it back so that she could mark her place in the book before being yanked out of the room.

"Ever tried to exercise patience, Padfoot?" she asked cheekily, placing the book on her armchair as he took a hold of her elbow.

"You wouldn't believe it," he said, ignoring her rhetorical question, "but I found them. I found one of the other couples in the Veil. One of the happy couples. They're here. I've found them."

"Where?" she said, now feeling a bit excited herself.

"They're out in the courtyard," he told her, reaching the living room. "They can't come into our rooms, and we can't go to theirs, but the garden's neutral territory."

"Well, where are they?" she asked when they finally emerged into the sunlight.

"Over here," a voice said, and Hermione and Sirius turned.

**

* * *

**

Sorry this took so long. I do have notes on what's coming up in the next few chapters, but soon it will take even longer. I was considering posting a chapter of a different story each day, so I feel less pressure. I'm working on six stories at the moment, but have to start a new one soon, so there'll be seven. One for each day of the week. You may even get better quality chapters if I feel less rushed.


	15. Trouble in 'Paradise'

"Trouble in 'Paradise'"

"_Ever tried to exercise patience, Padfoot?" she asked cheekily, placing the book on her armchair as he took a hold of her elbow._

"_You wouldn't believe it," he said, ignoring her rhetorical question, "but I found them. I found one of the other couples in the Veil. One of the happy couples. They're here. I've found them."_

"_Where?" she said, now feeling a bit excited herself._

"_They're out in the courtyard," he told her, reaching the living room. "They can't come into our rooms, and we can't go to theirs, but the garden's neutral territory."_

"_Well, where are they?" she asked when they finally emerged into the sunlight._

"_Over here," a voice said, and Hermione and Sirius turned._

"Hello!" the woman said. She looked to be in her fifties, and the man about the same age. They had their arms around each other, and looked unnaturally happy. "We're so pleased to meet you. You'll just love it here; you'll never want to leave."

"But… but we have family and friends back home," Hermione said, frowning. "Why would we want to live here?"

"Because it's perfect," the man said, and he sighed happily, holding his wife even closer.

"Nothing's perfect, just as nobody's perfect," Hermione argued. Sirius held her elbow tighter, having not let go.

"They just mean that it's perfect for them," he murmured, and she tried to relax. Really, she did. But their expressions were blank beyond the utter bliss. It was almost as though they'd been brainwashed into loving the place. Surely Lewis wouldn't have anything to do with that? She may have been the one to mistrust him at first, but they knew him better now. Also, he didn't look brainwashed.

"It's perfect for anyone," the woman said. "So, what's your name?"

"I'm… Hermione Granger. This is…"

"Sirius Black; we know," the man replied. "I'm Thomas."

"And Gina. We married in 1732, and came here when our children were all taken by illness."

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said, eyes wide.

"But it doesn't matter, because this is a wonderful place!" Thomas exclaimed.

Hermione was taken aback. That didn't seem to care about their children at all. Sirius didn't seem to notice.

"Can I speak with you for a moment?" she asked him, and she gripped his arm, pulling him to their rooms where Gina and Thomas couldn't follow.

"What's up?" Sirius asked, pulling his arm away from him. "You seem on edge."

"Sirius, I don't like them," she said, wringing her hands nervously. "There's something not right with them; not right at all. They're a loving couple, who tried to give up their lives when their children all perished tragically. While they're still a loving couple, they don't seem to care about their children anymore. I think they may have been brainwashed."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," he said, furious. "You're just jealous because you've only got Lewis for company, and annoyed that I've found a couple of more interesting people to talk to, who don't keep their noses stuck in books twenty-four seven!"

"That's _completely_ unfair, Sirius!" she shouted. "I'm doing this for _us_! Do you think I want to be stuck here forever, like them?"

"If anyone's doing the brainwashing, it's your precious Curate," he replied, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't think he wants you at all, not the way you are anyway. He probably wants to keep you here for himself, never mind me."

"How _dare_ you!" she hissed. "If you think they're so much better company, go to them, and forget about me. I'll keep trying to find a way out, and you can make the decision either to return to your godson, and fight to keep Voldemort from taking over the wizarding world and killing people like me, or you can stay here in this so-called paradise, with your creepy new friends. The only possible difference this could make for me is if your absence from our true world makes the difference between the Light winning and the Dark winning."

With that, she stormed from the living room back to the library, and Sirius left their quarters to return to Gina and Thomas, trying to ignore the pang he felt at Hermione's words. He missed Harry; he missed Remus.

* * *

Lord Voldemort was suspicious. His Hogwarts spy was spending a lot of time going to the Ministry of Magic, borrowing out and returning numerous books. Lucius had noticed this going on, and had found out that he was doing research on ancient wizarding history. What was this all about? He was determined to find out, and summoned the professor to a meeting at Riddle Manor.

"Ah, Severus," he hissed, and Professor Snape knelt before the Dark Lord.

"Master," he murmured.

"I have had word that you are doing extra-curricular research at the Ministry," Voldemort said, stroking Nagini's head as she stared at the potions professor.

"Yes, Master," he said. "The old man wishes me to find out certain information for him." He hadn't expected queries about this, and saw Lucius shift about nearby. So. He had been spying on him at the MoM. What cruel irony.

"What kind of information?" Oh, he must know the kind of books, surely. Lucius' money could do anything.

"History," he replied shortly.

"What kind of history?"

"About ancient magical artefacts."

"Any one in particular?"

"No, my lord."

"Severus?" Voldemort cooed. Professor Snape, glanced up at him. "I thing you're lying to me."

* * *

When Hermione peeked out the door, she couldn't see Sirius, and felt it safe to leave. She made her way over to the other side of the garden, wondering how much of this was fake, created to seduce people to stay there. She had to see Lewis. He would explain.

"Lewis!" she called when she pushed open the door of his office. He dropped his quill with a start as he turned around.

"Hermione! What's wrong?"

"Sirius," she said, hurrying over to him as he stood. "He's met these awful people. Well, not awful; they're really friendly. But they don't care about their dead children anymore, and it looks like they've been brainwashed or something, and they're really creepy, and they think this place is perfect, and while it may be, there's…"

"Hermione, calm down," Lewis said, putting his hands on her arms to steady her. Her eyes were wild, and she was breathing too fast. He stroked her arms gently, and she took deeper breaths, willing herself to cease panicking. "Good girl. Now, tell me what happened. Who are these people?"

"They're called Thomas and Gina," she said. "I don't know where he found them, but they can't come into our rooms, which makes me feel a bit better."

"I remember them. They seem pretty normal compared to some of the others. A lot of them get defensive, so don't insult the Veil, and their world within it. You'll put yourself in danger by doing that."

"You have to tell me, Lewis. You have to ex… Wait a moment. You said 'their' world. Aren't you a part of it?" He looked away, dropping his hands. "Lewis? Why did you say 'their' world?"

* * *

It was a long struggle back to Hogwarts. Professor Snape had been lucky to get away with his life, such as it was. The Dark Lord had paused in his physical torture to let Nagini strike at the potions master, hoping that he might get more information from him using such tactics, and he took that precious moment to Apparate from Malfoy Manor to the Lestrange country estate, trying to create an untraceable trail. They could only trace a few Apparations.

From there, he Apparated to St. Mungo's, and his feet had barely touched the ground before he had leapt to the floo there, and said a spell that would remove any trace of his floo journey, not to mention block the sound so that no one could hear what he said.

His flooing took him straight to the Hog's Head, and Aberforth Dumbledore gave him the emergency portkey that took him directly to the Hogwarts infirmary. He collapsed onto the floor, without the strength to make it to a bed.

"Madame Pomfrey!" someone shouted. Professor Snape vaguely recognised it as belonging to Ginny Weasley, before he passed out.

He briefly came to when the headmaster arrived.

"Blew… cover," he rasped. "So… sorry."

"What happened, Severus?" Dumbledore asked urgently. "What did you tell him?"

It hurt the former spy that his master was more concerned about what had been said than about his own health, but he told himself to get over it. He was only valuable for two things: one, spying; two, teaching. He could no longer perform the first function; and, at the moment, he was incapable of performing the second.

"Knew… research… Veil… nothing… else… rest… easy." He slipped again into unconsciousness, and Madame Pomfrey tutted the headmaster.

"Leave him alone, Albus," she scolded, the few students around watching. "He's had a hard time, and doesn't need your interrogation. I'm ashamed of you. He's been risking his life for the Greater Good for far too long, and I think it's terrible of you to treat him so badly when he's obviously suffered more than enough for one lifetime, and that just in the course of this one evening!"

The headmaster, feeling duly chastened, left the wing, extracting a half-hearted promise that he would be informed when the teacher awoke again.

"Doesn't mean that I'll inform him the _first_ few times," she whispered to Professor Snape, who was still asleep. She chuckled sadly, smoothing the hair away from his bloodied and bruised face. She set about healing him as best she could, not even noticing the stares of the astounded students.

**

* * *

**

Now poor ol' Professor Snape no longer has to spy. Dumbledore will (partly) make it up to him in the next chapter. For now, we'll let him recover, and return to Hermione and Lewis tomorrow, as well as check on Severus' condition.

**As to those who were hoping that we'd know the 'happy couple'… well, it must be remembered that these people all gave up their lives willingly, and no one we know has done that, I don't think. Well, unless you count Lily giving her life for Harry. But these people also jumped into the Veil, which she didn't.**

**It must also be noted that Sirius made a mistake, which means that he clearly hasn't adjusted completely yet. He said 'twenty-four seven', whereas the time there is actually 'eighteen seven'. Just thought I'd point that out.**


	16. Telling

"Telling"

"_Knew… research… Veil… nothing… else… rest… easy." He slipped again into unconsciousness, and Madame Pomfrey tutted the headmaster._

"_Leave him alone, Albus," she scolded, the few students around watching. "He's had a hard time, and doesn't need your interrogation. I'm ashamed of you. He's been risking his life for the Greater Good for far too long, and I think it's terrible of you to treat him so badly when he's obviously suffered more than enough for one lifetime, and that just in the course of this one evening!"_

_The headmaster, feeling duly chastened, left the wing, extracting a half-hearted promise that he would be informed when the teacher awoke again._

"_Doesn't mean that I'll inform him the first few times," she whispered to Professor Snape, who was still asleep. She chuckled sadly, smoothing the hair away from his bloodied and bruised face. She set about healing him as best she could, not even noticing the stares of the astounded students._

Dumbledore called an emergency Order meeting at Hogwarts, and they grouped together in his office. He made sure that it was after curfew, not wanting any students to be out and about while he held the meeting.

"As some of you may know, Severus has blown his cover as a spy," he began, making it sound as though it was Professor Snape's fault, when it wasn't entirely. "Thus, we need to arrange another spy. In the meantime, I feel that I must tell you something. I have less than a year to live."

There were gasps and murmurings around the room, before they settled down at Dumbledore's raised hand. "It was through a foolish act of my own, no one else's doing. As it is, Draco Malfoy has been ordered to kill me by Lord Voldemort. Narcissa Malfoy, fearing for her son, made Severus take an Unbreakable Vow to do it instead if Draco was unable to succeed. I have also made the request of Severus. I'm telling you this now so that, if and when he kills me, you will know that it was on my orders, and not that he's returned to the dark side."

"So Severus has to help you commit suicide," Minerva said softly, and the headmaster nodded.

"At the moment, he's in a critical condition, so it may be a case of having to rely on Draco Malfoy succeeding. Nevertheless, I need everyone on board to help defeat Voldemort before I die. Can I count on your collective help?"

There as a chorus of agreement, and he dismissed everyone soon after that.

"Wake up soon, Severus," he murmured, looking out into the night sky from his desk.

* * *

"It isn't exactly my world, you see," Lewis explained to Hermione. "To them, it's everything; it has become everything. For… well… I was created to represent different people who have had major influence on the Veil. But, most of all, I was based on the man who conducted the ill-fated wedding ceremony that ended with all of that bloodshed."

"Oh," she said, unsure of what else she could possibly say. "But isn't it still your world? As you said, you were created by the Veil."

"But I've always felt that I belong more to the outside world than in here," he said, sounding almost frustrated. "I don't consider this world to be the be-all and end-all. I may not have experience with the world outside of the Veil, but I do know that there is one; and that, for all its imperfections, it's far better. People only come here—as a rule—if there's nothing left for them out there." He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Do you see what I mean?"

"You're different from the others," she said helpfully. "You were created; this is more your world than theirs, however much you say otherwise. The difference is that you haven't been brainwashed."

"It's not brainwashing," he replied, facing her fully now. "Brainwashing involves an invasion of a person's mind by someone else, a forced reality or want instilled in their mind. This is not a case of brainwashing. They've been seduced by their lives here. Did you know that there are more gardens?" She shook her head. "Oh, yes. I designed and planted each and every one of them. You've seen the rooms where I work, and where the Judges work. They're grey and brown. Grey and brown. I wanted something beautiful, something colourful, so I created it. If you want to blame anyone, blame me."

"But it's such beautiful work," Hermione murmured, thinking about the glorious garden where they had celebrated her sweet sixteenth birthday.

"Of course, there's more to it than just my gardens," he admitted. "The ability to have anything you want—except an escape—in your rooms; anything you want for your kitchens and bathrooms. That's all the work of the Judges of the Veil. It's a matter of seduction, Miss Granger, and I would hate for you to fall prey to it. Mr. Black can explore all he wants, but he won't find an escape. You'll do far better with your books; and even then, it may well come down to you having to marry."

A tear slid down Hermione's cheek, but she never broke eye contact with Lewis. The Curate sighed again, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So you're saying that it's hopeless."

"I'm saying, Hermione," he began, returning to a first-name basis, "that if ever you want to leave this place, keep Sirius Black away from the gardens and those people. Don't let him dream up foods that will keep him here forever. Don't allow him to be tempted to stay here. Because if he does, and your only escape is marriage… then you may never leave. In case you hadn't noticed, it's a man's world here even more than it is out there. If Sirius wants to stay, and you marry, then you'll stay. The Judges will not rule in your favour."

Hermione fell to the floor now, trying hard to breathe. Lewis squatted down in front of her.

"You know what's best for him," he whispered. "And I know what's best for you. Convince him to stay in the library. Do whatever you have to do to keep him either there or in the living room. Make sure he doesn't meet any other people, and keep him away from Gina and Thomas. Only take him into the garden occasionally. Can you do this for me, Hermione?" She nodded. "Good girl. I'll see you later, all right?"

"What do I do if he wants to stay?" she asked, looking up at Lewis.

"I'll think of something," he said. "But don't you worry about that now."

* * *

Severus Snape was ridiculously relieved when he finally awoke. Madame Pomfrey was there; Albus Dumbledore wasn't. Perfect. The last thing he needed right now was to speak with the headmaster.

He made a small noise, and the medi-witch immediately bustled over.

"Oh, thank goodness you're awake, Severus!" she exclaimed, and she patted down his forehead with a cloth. "You had us worried there."

"'Us'?" he asked croakily. She tutted, and gave him a potion, which he drank in one go.

"The staff, the students—all right, _some_ of the students—the members of the Order. He held a meeting last night, and told them all about Mr. Malfoy's mission, the Unbreakable Vow, and your promise." He groaned, and lay back on the numerous pillows that Madame Pomfrey was stacking up behind him. "You're just so brave. We felt horrified by the fact that we may have lost faith in you, may have hated you."

"There's no 'may' about it," he said. "People have been known to hold grudges against me. It appears to be common practice."

"Well, I'm not going to tell the headmaster that you're awake until you want me to," she replied, patting his arm. "Now, take this potion for the pain. Want to tell me what happened?"

"No."

"You'll have to explain to the headmaster eventually."

He sighed, muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Finally, he shrugged. "Fine then. There was a bit of the Cruciatus Curse, a bit of beating up, and a bit of psychological torture, though that didn't affect me much. They referred to Miss Granger as a… as a… the 'm' word."

"A _bit_ of beating up?" she asked incredulously. "Severus, you had several broken ribs, one which had punctured a lung; you have bumps on the head, severe lacerations to the thighs, arms, and torso; the Cruciatus Curse didn't do any good to your insides, either. You've now got problems with your heart. You have broken nails from where you dug them into your hands and the floor. There are teeth marks on your lips and the insides of your cheeks from where you've obviously bitten yourself to stop from screaming." He glanced down at his hands. "You call that a _bit_ of a beating?"

"I've seen worse…"

"Liar." She crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow, doing a fair impression of the potions master. He glared at her, but didn't speak. "You're going to sulk now, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Fine. But you'd better be ready for admiration, because I think you're going to get a lot of it from people." He groaned, and twisted over to his side, facing away from her. "Oh, grow up, Severus. You deserve a rest, but be mature about it. There are some more potions here," she continued in a gentler tone. "I trust you know which ones are which?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

"No. Just trying to keep the conversation going. At least you'll have more time for research now. We had no idea that you were trying to save Miss Granger, and that it's that which got you in trouble."

"Hmph."

"Good night, Severus. Sweet dreams."

"Not bloody likely." He sighed, masking the yawn that was threatening. "Good night, Poppy."

* * *

Hermione couldn't find Sirius when she returned to their quarters, and sighed. 'Do whatever you have to do', Lewis had said. Right. Well, she couldn't do anything if Sirius wasn't there, could she? The only thing left to do was read.

She hadn't yet had a proper look at that book Voldemort had wanted. _Oracula Atrum Solus Inhio_. She wasn't sure precisely how to translate it, but she was sure that the answer was somewhere inside. Unfortunately, she wasn't confident enough with her Latin to try and read it unassisted. So she found herself traipsing back to Lewis' office.

When she walked in, he looked up, and chuckled.

"I haven't found an answer for your problem yet," he said. "Or did you just miss my company?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could help me with something else," she said. "I need a Latin dictionary. Is there one in the library? Only I don't know how many books I'd have to go through…"

"Here," he said, and he tapped his quill on the desk three times. A book appeared there, and he handed it over. "There's a Latin dictionary. Have fun!" he added sarcastically, and she laughed.

"Oh, I'm sure I will," she replied, and smiled as she waved goodbye to him.

**

* * *

**

What a long chapter. Hmm. Enjoyed it? Let me know!


	17. In the Meantime

"In the Meantime"

"_Actually, I was hoping you could help me with something else," she said. "I need a Latin dictionary. Is there one in the library? Only I don't know how many books I'd have to go through…"_

"_Here," he said, and he tapped his quill on the desk three times. A book appeared there, and he handed it over. "There's a Latin dictionary. Have fun!" he added sarcastically, and she laughed._

"_Oh, I'm sure I will," she replied, and smiled as she waved goodbye to him._

Gina and Thomas were walking Sirius around one of the many gardens away from his and Hermione's rooms. He tried to keep track of where they were going, so that he'd be able to find his way back, and eventually had to ask for them to return him.

"Why?" Thomas asked, his eyes hard. "I thought we were having a good time."

"Oh, we were… we are!" Sirius reassured him. The gardens were wonderful. The people, as Hermione had said, were a bit weird. Okay, a lot weird. They hero-worshipped the gardens. More to the point, they spoke about the Judges of the Veil with reverence. Considering how much he hated those blokes, it was very confusing to be told that they were brilliant, and almost agreeing with that. He was muddled, and there were no two ways about it.

"Then let's look at another garden," Gina told him, dragging him along a bit. "Or have some berries. Have you had any of the fruit growing here?"

"N-no…"

"Sirius!" Lewis exclaimed, bursting in on the scene. "How wonderful to see you again."

"Hello, Lewis!" Sirius said, never so relieved to see the Curate. He had perfect timing. "I was just thinking about getting back. I'm a bit tired."

"And you wouldn't want to spoil your appetite with fruits from the garden," Lewis added sagely. "Not when something delicious will be waiting for you back at your rooms."

"Yes," Thomas agreed. "Isn't it wonderful that you can have anything you want here?"

"Now _that_ I could get used to," Sirius said laughingly. He waved goodbye to Gina and Thomas, and set off after Lewis.

"Here's a shortcut," the Curate whispered, taking Sirius through one door, which led him straight back into the first garden, the one near their rooms.

"We were that close all the time?" he asked incredulously.

"No," Lewis replied. "It's only a shortcut because you're with me. Otherwise you would have ended up needing rescuing, and I would have had a more difficult time finding you. Now, this has got to stop. Hermione is worried about you, severely worried. You have to stay indoors, Sirius. Don't let yourself be tempted to stay here. _Never_ eat of the fruit in the garden—pretend that it's the garden of Eden, and everywhere out there is the tree of Knowledge—and stay away from other people. You'll find that they're all… strange."

"Eden? Tree of Knowledge?"

"Biblical references… never mind. Just… stay in your rooms as much as possible."

"Okay, okay… I'll try."

* * *

One of the books on magical materials mentioned veils—wedding veils. Professor Snape threw it down in frustration, and buried his head in his hands.

"Well, bang goes another theory," he said. "Veils… Wait a moment. I wonder if… no, that's impossible. Still, it's worth investigating. Everything else has been useless."

Another trip to the library was in order. When he got there, he asked Madame Pince if the library had anything on the history of wizarding weddings. She was surprised, but nonetheless told him where they might be found. He thanked her, and hurried over to the section, only to be accosted by Golden Duo.

"Professor, can we speak with you for a moment?" Harry asked, and he rolled his eyes.

* * *

When Sirius arrived back at the rooms, after waving goodbye to Lewis (who he was beginning to appreciate more and more) he went into the living room straight away. Hermione was there, almost falling asleep in front of the fire. He realised how late it was getting—they had yet to adjust to the shorter days—and pulled away the two books that she had open on her lap. She looked up at him sleepily, and then registered who it was.

"Sirius!" she cried, and she threw her arms around his shoulders. "I was so worried. I'm so sorry about all the things I said, really I am. Please don't leave me. I'm frightened of being alone, but I have to read these books." She had decided to play the 'I'm scared' card first, to see if he reacted to that.

"It's all right, love," he said, smoothing the hair away from her face. "I'm here now. I'll stay with you. Tell you what: I'll go and get a book from the library, and then bring it back here to you. We can get some reading done together. Sound fair?" She nodded, and he tweaked her nose. "Then I'll be back soon. Don't run off now."

"I won't." As soon as he walked away, Hermione began to go through the options for keeping him in their rooms. She could always keep him eating succulent snacks during the day; and, if he complained about putting on weight, she could think up a gymnasium in her room.

Then there were threats. She could threaten to self-harm, but that was a bit extreme; and Sirius would probably have her put under room-arrest, making his bedroom into some kind of mental institution, or having Lewis make _her_ room into a padded cell. Then he'd probably stay away, and nothing will have been accomplished. And if she threatened to harm _him_, then he'd stay away from her at all costs.

But the last option was rather extreme as well. Seduce him, and keep him inside the rooms that way. Sirius had been a womaniser before Azkaban; therefore, it must have been a long time for him since he last had any female contact of… that sort. Not that she was suggesting that he was desperate.

However, she might become the desperate one. Hopefully he'd be able to keep his mind on research, and continue to stay indoors.

* * *

The study group was in session; and yet they were talking more about Professor Snape than about the homework they had to do for him. When they had been told that he had been trying to find a way to rescue Hermione (and Sirius), they were all amazed, and slightly ashamed of having thought badly about him. After all, no one else had thought to read through book after book to find answers; and yet it was such a Hermione thing to do.

Therefore, when Luna saw the professor enter the library, she pointed him out to the boys, who immediately stood. As soon as he got close enough, they boldly accosted him.

"Make it quick, Potter," he said in reply to Harry's question.

"We wanted to apologise for having doubted you," Harry said.

"And thank you for trying to save Hermione," Ron added. "But… you _do_ know she's dead, right?"

"She is not dead, Mr. Weasley," Professor Snape said. "I had decided not to tell anyone, as it would just be raising people's hopes… but when a witch or wizard dies, a death certificate automatically appears at the Ministry of Magic, and it cannot be removed. I checked; they never received Miss Granger's certificate. Ergo, she is technically alive. I am trying to rescue her from a place that may be filled with horrors."

"I see," Harry said, eyes wide in amazement. "We didn't know that."

"Well… now you know," he replied slowly, looking from one boy to the other. "At least you have improved _marginally_ in class. Maybe I'll start to find that your combined equals more than two digits. Now, if I may be allowed to continue in my search?" He tilted his head towards the bookshelves, and the boys nodded quickly, thanking him.

**

* * *

**

And so the search continues. I'll try to look at other people in the outside world, not just the folks in Hogwarts.

**Oh, and when Professor Snape says "Bang goes another theory", he's referring to the TV series **_**It Ain't Half Hot, Mum**_**. One of the characters says that if something they're trying doesn't work.**


	18. Outside and Inside

"Outside and Inside"

"_She is not dead, Mr. Weasley," Professor Snape said. "I had decided not to tell anyone, as it would just be raising people's hopes… but when a witch or wizard dies, a death certificate automatically appears at the Ministry of Magic, and it cannot be removed. I checked; they never received Miss Granger's certificate. Ergo, she is technically alive. I am trying to rescue her from a place that may be filled with horrors."_

"_I see," Harry said, eyes wide in amazement. "We didn't know that."_

"_Well… now you know," he replied slowly, looking from one boy to the other. "At least you have improved marginally in class. Maybe I'll start to find that your combined equals more than two digits. Now, if I may be allowed to continue in my search?" He tilted his head towards the bookshelves, and the boys nodded quickly, thanking him._

Mr. and Mrs. Granger continued with their dental practice. The Order did indeed keep tabs on them, even resorting to using glamours to go and get check-ups. However, nobody thought to put glamours on their teeth; and, after Remus had made his second visit, getting x-rays again, Mr. Granger thought something was up.

He discussed it with his wife over dinner.

"I'm sure I've never seen him before, but I'd swear that I'd seen those teeth before, and recently, too," he said, puzzling over it while he cut up his jacket potato. "Maybe I'm just imagining things. But could you help me look through the films of new patients to see if any of them match?"

"Certainly, dear, though I can't imagine why they would."

"I asked him to have a check-up on Friday. If there's something going on…"

"Then we can confront him," Mrs. Granger finished. She glanced up at her husband from where her head was bent over her plate, fiddling with her string beans. "Do you think they're from… Hermione's world?"

"It would make sense."

"Yes." There was a long pause. Then…

"We'll need to do something about it," Mr. Granger said, agreeing with his wife's unspoken statement. "But we'll jump that hurdle when we get there."

"We certainly will."

* * *

Lewis knew that there had to be an answer. Marriage wasn't the be-all and end-all, surely! There had to be some other way of getting them out. Not that he particularly wanted Hermione to go, but she couldn't stay. He just hoped that Sirius would come to his senses.

Why did he even do this work? What exactly was he doing? All he _really_ needed to do was tend to his gardens. Maybe he could skip the paperwork… help her—_them_—do research. An extra pair of hands, and eyes, wouldn't hurt. Not in this case.

Yes, he decided, standing up. He'd go and help. He put away the work, and hurried out of the office.

"Lewis!"

He groaned at the perky voice, and looked at the speaker. It was Ferdinand. He and his wife Geraldine—another 'happy couple' constantly joined at the hips—were walking over to him. What were they doing here? Nobody ever visited him unless they wanted something.

"Hello," he replied, trying to keep his voice and face as neutral as possible. "How can I help you?"

"We'd like to see the newcomers," Geraldine told him. The usual smile of the people who were seduced by the world in the Veil was plastered on both their faces. If he knew better, he would compare their expressions to Dolores Umbridge's crocodile smile. He, however, had never had the displeasure to meet her.

"I'm afraid they are not in the mood to meet anyone," he said coolly.

"But Thomas and his wife met them," Ferdinand said. It annoyed the Curate to no end when the women weren't referred to by name, but instead as though they were possessions. At least, it annoyed him ever since he met Hermione.

Nor had he felt so rebellious until then.

"Well, I can't help that Thomas and _Gina_ met them first," he replied. "Maybe that one experience… made up their minds for them, so to speak."

"Didn't you tell them that there were other people to meet?" Geraldine asked.

"Oh, they know," Lewis said.

"So why don't they come out?" he asked.

The Curate smirked before replying: "They have good taste."

Suddenly, Ferdinand slammed him into the column. Lewis was dazed by the hit to his head, and he had to force himself to focus on the angry man's flashing eyes. Geraldine also looked dangerous. Ferdinand drew back his fist, before connecting it with Lewis' nose. Geraldine flew forward, wrapped her hands around his throat, and began to apply pressure.

Just before he passed out, Lewis heard two cries of "Stupefy!"…

* * *

Professor Snape refused to approach the Ministry library yet. Not unless he could be accompanied by at least two Aurors.

"It's not a matter of cowardice," he told the headmaster.

"Merlin forbid that anyone suggest otherwise," Dumbledore replied blithely.

"But I'm a Slytherin, and self-preservation is important to us," he said. "Anyway, I thought that, with some time away from books, maybe I'd get inspiration from other quarters; look at the problem with fresh eyes."

"Good idea," came the reply. "Have a break, and just concentrate on teaching. Find a new project, if you feel the need. Mr. Black and Miss Granger may even come back in time for battle, if they can only be returned to us when we're in genuine need of their fighting skills."

"Hmm."

"Go back to your rooms, Severus. You've had your few nights in the hospital wing. Poppy is generously giving you the option of recovering in your quarters."

"Yes, headmaster." A sneer accompanied the reply.

"Let me know when you're ready to continue your research," Dumbledore said. Professor Snape nodded resignedly.

"I'm determined to find an answer, Albus," he said. The headmaster nodded understandingly.

"Well, if anyone can succeed, it would be you, Severus. And, once again, I wish you every luck in the world."

"Thank you. Just make it possible for me to get into the Ministry library—_accompanied_—when I'm ready. Also, to get into the Department of Mysteries. The answers may lie there, no matter what the Ministry officials say. There is no longer the threat of the Dark Lord over me in that respect."

"You'll be a free man when this is over with."

"Except for the fact that I have to kill you."

"But the Order knows now, and it won't have to look like murder. It can just be assisted suicide now."

"Oh, because that just makes everything better!" the professor said. He stood abruptly, and almost knocked over the chair. "I have no qualms whatsoever about breaking the Unbreakable Vow, just so that I don't have to do something that will make me more hated than before."

"Severus…"

"_No_, Albus! I refuse to be a pawn in your game anymore. There are better ways of going about things." He swept out of the room. It was time to have a long talk with Potter.

* * *

Hermione and Sirius had worked out a system where they'd only look for keywords in books, those relating to materials, marriage, and love. It took awhile to get into the swing of things; but, after a couple of eighteen-hour days, they seemed to have it down pat, and were skimming through the books like pros.

They took occasional breaks, in which they had some kind of meal or snack, and Hermione would continue with her translation of _Oracula Atrum Solus Inhio_.

"You take a break from books just to read more books," Sirius remarked, shaking his head.

"Voldemort wanted this for some reason, and I'm determined to find it," she murmured.

"Got a translation of the title yet?"

"From what I gathered through the introduction, it's supposed to be the only book on dark prophecies that a person will ever need. _Oracula_: prophecies; _Atrum_: dark; _Solus_: only; and _Inhio_… need."

"And this is to do with the prophecy that we were trying to protect in the Department of Mysteries?"

"Yes. It's painfully obvious. I think there's a chapter on re-creating, or even faking, prophecies. He might have wanted to do something like that."

"Good thing you got the book away, though I don't know what purpose re-creating the prophecy would serve."

"He could make a false one, and create panic through some kind of sinister message, Trelawney-style." She frowned down at the book, and Sirius nodded.

"_Bloody_ good thing you got the book away, even if you ended up here for your efforts."

"Let's stretch our legs a bit," Hermione said, standing. "We could adjourn to the common room to continue our reading there until it's time to go to bed. Have a drink."

"Miss Granger," Sirius said, pretending to be shocked. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"I was that obvious?" she asked dryly. He nodded, grinning, and they carried their books to the living room.

"What's that?" he asked as soon as they entered. He cocked his head, his dog-like hearing picking up the sounds of loud voices.

"I'll check it out," Hermione said, and she went to the door.

"I'm coming with you."

"Well… all right. But we can't stay out there long."

"I know."

They exited into the bright sunshine. To their mutual horror, they saw a tall man punch Lewis, and then a woman jumped forward. As one, Hermione and Sirius drew their wands, took aim, and Stunned the two strangers. Lewis slid to the ground, and they ran forward.

"Lewis!" Hermione cried, dropping to the ground and throwing her arms around him. "Oh, Lewis. Wake up!"

"Help me bring him inside," Sirius told her, and she nodded in acquiescence.

**

* * *

**

Oh no! Poor Lewis! I know how much some of you like him. Never fear, though. He'll be okay, if a bit shocked. And some good will come from this. You'll see.

**As of Monday, I'll be posting one chapter of each story a week; so, a chapter of one story is posted on Monday, and then the next chapter posted the next Monday. That way, I'll not only have more time for uni work, but you won't be bombarded by seven emails a day from me and you may get better quality work, though I make no guarantees.**


	19. Medical Emergency

"Medical Emergency"

"_I'll check it out," Hermione said, and she went to the door._

"_I'm coming with you."_

"_Well… all right. But we can't stay out there long."_

"_I know."_

_They exited into the bright sunshine. To their mutual horror, they saw a tall man punch Lewis, and then a woman jumped forward. As one, Hermione and Sirius drew their wands, took aim, and Stunned the two strangers. Lewis slid to the ground, and they ran forward._

"_Lewis!" Hermione cried, dropping to the ground and throwing her arms around him. "Oh, Lewis. Wake up!"_

"_Help me bring him inside," Sirius told her, and she nodded in acquiescence._

When the Curate woke up, it was dark in the room. He moaned as he tried to sit up, and someone was immediately at his side.

"Lewis?" It sounded like Hermione. "It's all right. I'm here. We'll look after you. You'll be better soon."

"Hermione…" He drifted off again, missing the sigh of frustration. The next time he awoke, he heard a pair of voices talking. Yes; it had to be Hermione. Hermione and Sirius. They were discussing him.

"…never been hurt before…"

"…turn on him? What nutcases…"

"…wish… stopped them…"

"…don't blame yourself, Hermione…"

"What's going on?" Lewis asked, forcing himself to wake up properly. Hermione quickly applied a cold, wet cloth to his face.

"Stay here as long as you need to," she whispered to him. Sirius chose to answer the question.

"Hermione and I got to you in time, before that crazy woman strangled you," he said. "So much for wandless magic, huh?"

"Sirius!" Hermione said sharply. "He has a head injury. He was probably disoriented."

"Damn right," Lewis muttered.

"Just look at the matted blood on the back of his skull. And feel the bump…"

"Ouch!"

"Sorry," Hermione said quietly, and she stroked the bump gently. If she tried massage, the action would just make the injury hurt more. "We've done all we can to make you comfortable, and we've applied ice to your injuries…"

"Where am I?"

"You're in my room," Sirius told him. "Hermione said that you could stay in hers; but I, at least, can change into dog form and sleep very comfortably on a rug by the fire. She cannot."

"It's quite true," she added cheerfully. Then her smile saddened, and she stroked back some of Lewis' hair. "You're safe here. They can't get in, can they?"

"No," he said, and he smiled weakly at both of them. "Thank you for your help. I was actually coming to find you. I wanted to offer my services as a fellow researcher. Will you allow me to help?"

"There's no way we're letting you out of here until you're well enough, and until something can be done about those creeps out there!" Hermione exclaimed furiously. "Did you really think us to be so heartless? You're most welcome to help us study… uh, research."

"And she's back at Hogwarts," Sirius murmured, smiling down at her. Lewis realised that the reason why the room was dim was because of the floating candles, and the darkness of night-time apparent through Hermione's window. He saw the two looking at each other intently, and knew that the candlelight had something to do with this sudden—or was it so sudden?—attention to each other. Perhaps it was even attraction?

Maybe they'd get married anyway, out of love. He smiled at the prospect. If they purified the Veil the way the Judges hoped they might, then perhaps he'd be able to leave as well, and wouldn't have to look after the loonies who resided here.

"So why do you think they turned on you?" Sirius asked.

* * *

"Potter, stay behind after class," Professor Snape said at the end of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry looked at him curiously, but complied without question. Ron waited around, wondering if he was needed; but, by the look shot at him by the professor, he left quietly. His own look at Harry let the green-eyed boy know that he'd wait outside for him.

"What's up, Professor?" Harry asked, sitting down where indicated.

"I want to know what Dumbledore wants you to do."

"Best to get straight to the point, sir," was the raised-eyebrow reply. The dark look he received said it all; 'cut out the sarcasm'. "Okay. He wants me to get a particular memory from Slug… from Professor Slughorn. It's of a conversation that he had with a young V… Tom Riddle."

"Do you know the content of this conversation?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't need to try and wangle it," Harry muttered. Professor Snape rolled his eyes.

"Five points from Gryffindor for impertinence, Potter. You must have _some_ idea of the content, otherwise you wouldn't know what to ask for."

Harry was sore over the point loss, but figured that it wasn't as large an amount as it might have been only a matter of months ago. "Riddle asked about something he'd read about in the Restricted Section. It was after a meeting with S… _Professor_ Slughorn. The question was about horcruxes. But the headmaster obviously doesn't know what horcruxes are… although, surely he could just look in the Restricted Section?" He frowned questioningly, and Professor Snape shrugged.

"Either that, or he wants to know precisely _why_ Riddle wanted to know about them," he said. "How do you know the contents of the memory?"

"Because Dumb… Professor Dumbledore has a fake memory. Part of it, after Riddle asks about the horcruxes, has clearly been modified."

"I see," the professor said, and he thought. "I'll do all that I can to help you, Potter."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Professor Slughorn used to teach me, and has always appreciated my talent at potions," he said, smirking. "As he now appreciates _your_ newfound talent," and he gave Harry a suspicious look. "Care to explain, Potter?"

"Maybe it's because I don't have the threat of mass point loss hanging over my head, sir," Harry suggested innocently. Professor Snape didn't buy it.

"You know that I'm a Legillimens," he said, arching an eyebrow. "Do you want me to search your mind?"

Harry sighed, and pulled out the Half-Blood Prince's book from his bag, and the teacher's eyes widened slightly. "It's this book. If it wasn't for the Half-Blood Prince, I wouldn't have got that Felix Felicis," he said. "He's a bloody genius, sir."

"Why, thank you, Potter," the professor said, his smirk returning, and Harry looked up.

"Huh? Why?" Then it slowly dawned on him.

* * *

Lewis thought about it, but not for long. There was only one _marginally_ logical explanation.

"They're crazy," he said, and he sighed. "Irrational. But they mentioned Thomas and Gina. It may have been jealousy. Not that I did much to defuse the situation," he added in a mutter, and Hermione tilted her head.

"What do you mean?" she asked, and Lewis relayed their conversation. Sirius laughed with approval at the Curate's replies. Hermione gave him a reproachful look. "Well, that was silly of you, then, wasn't it? You yourself said that there were some dangerous ones among them."

"They've never attacked me before," he said, almost a whine in his voice.

"Oh, there, there," Hermione said, patting his arm with a smile. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. "We'll protect you. Now, what would you like to eat?"

* * *

Remus turned up at the dentists on Friday with his appointment, making sure that he had the right glamours on. The full moon was next week. If his appointment had been only five days later, Mr. Granger would have been in danger. Fortunately, he'd thought of this in advance. Hermione's father was very friendly, as he was last time, and began to clean the werewolf's teeth.

"How have your teeth been this past week?" he asked.

"Okay," Remus managed to say around the dental instruments. "Why?"

"Karen, could you please get Mr. Woolfe's x-rays for me? I left them in the office," the dentist said. As soon as the dental nurse was out of the room, he removed the instruments. "I was just wondering how you clean your teeth in the wizarding world."

Remus' eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. "W-what?"

"You're one of the people from that Order thing, aren't you?"

"I… I don't know what you m…"

"Are you aware that a person's teeth are unique to them, and only them?" Mr. Granger said carefully, and then he resumed cleaning Remus' teeth when Karen re-entered the room. She had no idea that the wizarding world existed, that her employers' daughter was a witch; and there was certainly no reason for her to know.

At the end of the appointment, Mr. Granger asking very innocuous questions to which Remus gave one-worded answers, they left the room together.

"Mr. Woolfe won't need to return," he told the receptionist. "Am I right, Mr. Woolfe?"

Remus nodded, and tried to apologise with his eyes. "Thank you for your help, sir, and please let me know if I can ever return the favour," he said, offering his hand to the dentist. However, with the gloves on, Mr. Granger refused to shake hands, and just looked at the werewolf coldly.

"Good bye," Hermione's father said, and he returned to his room, where he helped Karen clean up before the next patient while Remus paid his dental bill.

That night, as Remus explained what had happened at a meeting of the Order, the Grangers began to arrange a move to Australia.

**

* * *

**

I'll be going in alphabetical order. Therefore, "Breaking Out" will be posted on Monday mornings (Eastern Standard Time).


	20. Some Explaining To Do

"Some Explaining To Do"

_At the end of the appointment, Mr. Granger asking very innocuous questions to which Remus gave one-worded answers, they left the room together._

"_Mr. Woolfe won't need to return," he told the receptionist. "Am I right, Mr. Woolfe?"_

_Remus nodded, and tried to apologise with his eyes. "Thank you for your help, sir, and please let me know if I can ever return the favour," he said, offering his hand to the dentist. However, with the gloves on, Mr. Granger refused to shake hands, and just looked at the werewolf coldly._

"_Good bye," Hermione's father said, and he returned to his room, where he helped Karen clean up before the next patient while Remus paid his dental bill._

_That night, as Remus explained what had happened at a meeting of the Order, the Grangers began to arrange a move to Australia._

"_You're_ the… the Half-Blood Prince?"

Harry was absolutely incredulous. Shocked. Gobsmacked. Amazed. Professor Snape decided to stop coming up with adjectives, as he was too amused by the boy's reaction. "Well done, Potter. A brilliant deduction. Yes, I am indeed the Half-Blood Prince."

After opening and closing his mouth several times, Harry finally got around to asking the obvious question. "What's with the name… sir?"

"My mother's maiden name was Prince," the professor explained, reluctant to go further. "I… I am a half-blood. I would prefer that you don't mention that to anyone."

"Of course, sir."

"It seemed like an interesting name," he continued, and he shrugged. Harry nodded politely, encouraging his teacher to keep talking. "And I must insist, Potter, that… while you may use the book until you can buy a _new_ one, _do not_, I repeat _do not_ use any of the spells in that book. Some of them are dark, and you mustn't risk anyone—particularly yourself—by using them."

"Did you create the spells yourself, sir?"

"Of course," Professor Snape said, tilting his head and frowning a little. "I should have thought that was perfectly obvious."

"Then, Professor…" Harry thought furiously. "Could you… could you create more spells?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know!" Harry said. "Something to help win the war, something to help Hermione, something to… to…" He folded his arms on the teacher's desk, and dropped his head onto them in resigned frustration.

"Hmm. Problem is, my… inspiration died, and it takes a long time to develop a brand new spell. As a teacher, I have far less time than when I was a teenager. Add to that the research I'm doing, the modifications to current potions, the duelling club… Potter, I don't have the time."

"I see, sir," he replied, standing slowly.

"But…" Harry looked up at his teacher. "I'll… see what I can do."

"Thank you, Professor. If all else fails, sir… you could teach me." He grinned.

"Out!" Professor Snape ordered, trying not to smirk, and Harry left the room.

* * *

Lewis wasn't used to food. He had no need of it where he lived. Hermione was determinedly set about fixing something for dinner. He had no allergies, and no objections to trying anything she made. She decided to avoid very rich foods for the time being. Sirius had learned cooking while helping Molly Weasley during his 'confinement' at Grimmauld Place, and impressed Hermione with his prowess as he helped her.

"I didn't know you could be so domestic," she admitted, grinning. "Never seen you do much work around Number Twelve."

"Most of the cleaning can be done using magic," he said. "Or that bloody house elf," he added with clenched teeth, his cheerfulness gone immediately. Lewis was browsing through a library book nearby, trying not to let the delicious scents of the food get to him, and trying even harder not to eavesdrop.

"Sirius, you must treat house elves with respect," Hermione admonished him. "They should have equal rights, and have the choice of freedom…"

"Yes, Harry told me all about S.P.E.W," he replied. "Whisk, please." Hermione handed over the kitchen utensil scrub nurse-style, and they continued. "Anyway, as I was saying, I don't like people to think of me as 'domestic', to use your word. It spoils the image, you understand." He gave her a lazy grin, and she nearly dropping the spoon she was using.

"Really?" she asked. "Most girls would like a husband who can cook and clean."

"Husband?" he said, and he snorted. "The only way _that's_ going to happen is if we're unable to find another way out of here."

Hermione looked down at her hands. They had stopped moving, and she took to her mixing again with great speed. Less than an hour later, the food was prepared, had been in the oven, and come out of the oven. It was soon on plates, and Sirius had fetched a bottle of wine. Hermione declined the alcohol in favour of refreshingly cold pumpkin juice. They toasted each other, drank deeply, and then began to eat.

* * *

It was Severus Snape who convinced Professor Slughorn to tell the Order of the Phoenix the rest of his memory about Tom Riddle. He invoked 'the name of Lily', so to speak. He was inspired by Harry. Just speaking about the spells that he had, in fact, created with her—some of them, anyway—reminded him of how much Slughorn had liked Lily Evans. The older man crumbled almost instantaneously, and promised to tell the Order everything.

The next meeting, Professor Snape waited in the shadows, to make sure that his former mentor went through with it.

He was not disappointed.

"A horcrux is a receptacle in which a person puts part of their soul after they… after they have murdered someone," Slughorn explained shakily. "And then… and then R-riddle asked me if it was possible to make _seven_." There was many a shared look among the members of the Order. "He assured me that it was all academic, but I should have seen the signs. It's just… he was _Head Boy_. One doesn't expect someone in so responsible a position to become… to become a mass murderer. I asked him what kind of person would want to kill so many times, when once just bad enough." His hands clenched and unclenched.

"Thank you for telling us, Horace," Dumbledore said gravely. As Slughorn sat down, the headmaster turned to the others. "We must now determine the horcruxes, as I believe that it is entirely possible for him to have made seven, or be striving to make seven. We must all pitch in with ideas."

"From Potter's description of what happened in the Chamber of Secrets," Professor Snape said, "it is entirely possible that Riddle's diary may have been a horcrux."

"I believe that you may be right, Severus," Dumbledore said, nodding. "In that case, we know that Basilisk venom can destroy a horcrux. We must do some thorough research. Can I count on some help in that department?"

Several people acquiesced, and Kingsley offered to check the Ministry of Magic's library as well. He promised to find some books for Professor Snape, as he was still reluctant to go there just yet. After the meeting, they discussed it.

"I've tried every conceivable aspect, and have so far been unsuccessful," he told the Auror. "Unless the Veil only gets a mention in some obscure book, I feel that I should try a different avenue. Knowing my luck, the answers will be in the last place I look."

"And where would be the last place you'd look?" Kingsley asked, amused.

"Wedding books," Professor Snape said, and he snorted. Then, remembering the material book that Madame Pince had suggested, he paused. Veil. Could it be…?

"Until later, Severus…"

"Wait!" The professor frowned, and then looked up. "Bring me all the books on magical weddings, including the history of magical weddings, that you can find."

Dinner had never been better, nor more interesting. Hermione and Sirius almost forgot to eat, as they were watching Lewis with such fascination. They had fixed a hearty meal of frittata, potatoes, beans, and corn. The Curate ate slowly, savouring each mouthful, and didn't speak until after the dessert of strawberries, cream, and a scoop of ice cream each.

He sat back, and the others waited on the proverbial edges of their seats.

* * *

"W-well?" Hermione asked anxiously. "What did you think?"

Lewis looked up. "It… it was like nothing I've ever experienced. I mean, the party was great, but it wasn't a sit-down meal, and was just the kind of snacks that I have sometimes purely for academic's sake. I'd never… never known what kind of things to eat. I've never known anything about food at all. It's… it's just indescribable."

"You're doing a pretty good job," Sirius said kindly. "Glad you approve."

"I do, very much," Lewis said. Now he let out a smile. It was timid at first, but before long had blossomed into the happiest smile either of them had ever seen on him.

"You ruminate on this, while I do the dishes," Hermione said, and she stood. The Curate remained seated, dazed by the experience, while Sirius joined the girl at the sink. "No, it's fine, Sirius. I've got it…"

"I'm helping," he said firmly, and she finally gave in… but not before she'd got most of the washing done. They began to dry, occasionally glancing over at Lewis to make sure that he was still all right. The beam had remained in place, and this lightened their hearts considerably.

They both reached for a bowl at the same time, their arms brushing. Hermione leapt back as if she had been burnt, and that snapped Lewis out of his reverie.

"What's going on?" he asked, immediately concerned.

"We'll be done soon," Hermione told him, her gaze never leaving Sirius. "Why don't you go to the library and find a book? Th-then we can all read together before bed."

"Okay," he replied, and he left the room. Hermione and Sirius stood there, still looking at each either. Finally, he moved, picking up the bowl. She tackled the cutlery, both of them silent, and they were very soon done, just as Hermione had promised. They retreated to the library, still unspeaking, and the three of them read until ten o'clock. Then it was Padfoot, aka Snuffles, to the fireplace, Lewis to Sirius' room, and Hermione to her room.

**

* * *

**

Still intrigued—perhaps, dare I say it, fascinated—by the story? I hope so. The theory that I'm working on is that it will be done in either 25 or 30 chapters, in keeping with my 'rule of fives'. The only exceptions to this rule are "Fixing a Mistake" and four one-shots, all written and posted.


	21. Movements at the Station

"Movements at the Station"

"_What's going on?" he asked, immediately concerned._

"_We'll be done soon," Hermione told him, her gaze never leaving Sirius. "Why don't you go to the library and find a book? Th-then we can all read together before bed."_

"_Okay," he replied, and he left the room. Hermione and Sirius stood there, still looking at each either. Finally, he moved, picking up the bowl. She tackled the cutlery, both of them silent, and they were very soon done, just as Hermione had promised. They retreated to the library, still unspeaking, and the three of them read until ten o'clock. Then it was Padfoot, aka Snuffles, to the fireplace, Lewis to Sirius' room, and Hermione to her room._

It was a restless night. Sirius was unused to sleeping in front of a fireplace. But, considering the nightmares he was sometimes plagued with, he hated to share a room unless he was in the same bed as someone else, and there was no way in hell he was sleeping with either of the others. And he wasn't going to let Lewis and Hermione sleep together. He felt protective of the girl, particularly if he ended up having to marry her. Not to mention that she was his godson's best friend.

Hermione tossed and turned. She couldn't stop thinking about Sirius. Where had _that_ come from? It must have been the long confinement. She just hoped that he was okay staying in the living room. Maybe she should check on him…

Unusual, the sensation of being in this bed. Lewis had never had to sleep before, just as he had never had to eat or drink. A day full of firsts for him. Would he be able to get to sleep? He didn't know how, and should have just insisted on staying in the library, reading. He may have eaten, but that didn't change anything. Yes, if he was going to stay here, he'd have to eat, and would have to sleep. But he didn't have to stay for that long, did he? No. Of course not.

Padfoot rolled over, and ended up staggering to a sitting position. He had an itch on his back from the heat of the fire, and was having difficulty scratching it. Then inspiration struck. He turned back into his human form, moved his right arm around to his back, and scratched the itch. Perfect! But he definitely needed a nightcap.

There was a noise coming from the kitchen, and Hermione wandered in there. She had got up to go to the bathroom, and went to investigate. It was Sirius, trying to decide what to have in the way of a drink. Alcohol? Tea? Milk? They were joined almost immediately by Lewis, who was frowning.

"I don't know how to fall asleep," he complained, and he sank onto a stool with a put-upon sigh. "What do I do?"

"I'll make hot chocolate," Hermione said, and she turned on one of the oven elements. Sirius pulled out the cocoa, and Hermione directed Lewis to fetch milk. She pulled out a pan, and began the preparations.

Not long after, all three were sitting around the lounge room, each in an armchair, sipping their hot drinks. Lewis felt his eyelids starting to drop, as did the others.

"I feel… tired," he said, almost sounding awed.

"Brush your teeth again before you go to bed," Hermione reminded him, and she took his now-empty mug. She and Sirius left the dishes with hot water in them, to finish washing them the next morning.

Sleep came easily that night.

* * *

The drive to the airport in the minicab couldn't go fast enough for Mr. and Mrs. Granger. They had their tickets, the practice and house were both sold, and they would be starting their new life in Australia within a matter of one and a half days. A new house and practice had already been bought over there before they left, as they needed the security of a new house. If it was at all possible… but no. Hermione was dead, and there was no way that she could come back. They had left no word with the Order.

Twenty-six hours after they boarded a plane at Heathrow, Hermione's parents landed in Brisbane Airport. They arrived intact; their luggage arrived intact. A taxi ride to the real estate agent's, and they got their keys. They got a lift to their new home, and carried their bags inside.

"Home, sweet…" Mrs. Granger stopped, and swallowed deeply, steadying her voice. "Home."

"Where should we go to stave off the imminent jetlag?" Mr. Granger asked, attempting to sound cheerful.

"We need food. And a c-car."

"…We've done the right thing."

"Yes. We'll need to change our money as well."

"…Yes."

"…Yes."

Mrs. Granger looked at her husband, and then broke down in his arms. She kept murmuring her daughter's name over and over, and they sank to the floor.

* * *

"Why have you left your rooms?" Three asked, calling through the door to Sirius and Hermione's quarters. "Lewis?"

"Terrific," the Curate muttered, rolling his eyes, and he shouted his reply. "Ask the nutcases who attacked me!"

"Lewis, we must speak with you," Two said. "Open this door."

"I'll meet you in the courtroom," was the answer, and they waited until the four Judges had left. Then Hermione and Sirius accompanied Lewis, wands at the ready. They reached the Judges' room in good time—not that time mattered there—and were soon standing before them.

"Lewis," Four said. "Why have you abandoned your duties?"

"My duties? _What_ duties?" he asked furiously. "I do paperwork, I deal with crazy people who go around trying to kill me, _and_ I do gardening."

"Are you being insubordinate?" One asked, frowning at the Curate.

"Insubordinate?" Lewis let out a bark of bitter laughter. "Come now. I was almost killed yesterday. Do you expect me to 'work' under these conditions?"

"They are residents of the Veil," Four reminded him. "It is your duty…"

"It is _your_ duty to enact justice," Lewis replied. "I want justice for _attempted murder_!"

"He has his rights, surely," Hermione said.

"We had to rescue him, otherwise you'd be short one Veil Curate," Sirius told them. "Do you want to risk that happening for _real_?"

"He's replaceable," Three said, shrugging, and Lewis paled.

"This… this…" he began, trying to find the rights words. "Do you know how long it took me to design and build those gardens? And how much work it takes to maintain them? Not to mention the systems I have worked out. Do you want to risk losing _that_?"

"Watch your tone, Lewis…"

"You sort those people out, and give them restrictions so that they cannot go near Miss Granger and Mr. Black," he said. "I refuse to have the 'happy couples' near me, as well. They are a danger to us. If you don't do this for us—for me—then I'll make sure that any 'replacements' will be incapable of running this place properly for many years to come." He swung around, and stalked out of the room, followed by Sirius and Hermione.

* * *

Referencing, cross-referencing, reading scads of books… this was Severus Snape's new secret life. No more spying, no more recreational drinking, no more writing articles for various potions magazines. Kingsley had found seven books on wizarding marital history, three reasonably substantial books on bridal gowns, and a book of historical Ministry pamphlets on matrimony. Going through books from the school library at the same time, the professor sometimes forgot about classes. He was close. He now knew the history of the Veil as it was used in wedding ceremonies. References were made to a massacre, but they were only references. Nothing yet on how to escape.

Dumbledore saw him slumped over in his office, and closed the door quietly. He began the lesson with the third year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Amid the bangs from the defensive spells, he heard a crash, and surmised that Professor Snape had woken, and fallen off his chair. Minutes later, the bell rang, and the class was dismissed with no homework.

"Typical," the DADA professor said from his doorway. The headmaster turned, and beamed.

"Ah, Severus. You're awake now."

"Clearly."

"You're working too hard, my boy."

"And yet I'm so sure that I'm close to an answer," he drawled.

"Severus, I'm more than happy to take over your classes for the time being; and, I can assure you, perfectly capable of teaching them."

Professor Snape considered the offer, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. "If you promise to follow my lesson plans—_to the last detail_—then yes, you may take some of my classes. But, as I said, I'm close to a solution. There just seems to be something _missing_. Once I find it, however…"

"You'll be welcomed back to your classes full-time with open arms," Dumbledore said, spreading his own apart as if to illustrate his point. A disbelieving and derisive snort was his only reply.

**

* * *

**

You go, Lewis! I've come up with some story ideas, and have posted a list of synopses. At the moment, I'm watching an episode of the TV series "Lewis" at the moment. Hurrah!


	22. Study Sessions

"Study Sessions"

"_You're working too hard, my boy."_

"_And yet I'm so sure that I'm close to an answer," he drawled._

"_Severus, I'm more than happy to take over your classes for the time being; and, I can assure you, perfectly capable of teaching them."_

_Professor Snape considered the offer, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. "If you promise to follow my lesson plans—to the last detail—then yes, you may take some of my classes. But, as I said, I'm close to a solution. There just seems to be something missing. Once I find it, however…"_

"_You'll be welcomed back to your classes full-time with open arms," Dumbledore said, spreading his own apart as if to illustrate his point. A disbelieving and derisive snort was his only reply._

The Veil Trio were lounging around the library as usual, taking the occasional sip of Earl Grey. They were still having zero luck with their research. Hermione, full of hope, had set out ink, quills, and parchment so that they could make notes.

The stationery remained untouched.

"Would it sound too mutinous if I said 'This is useless'?" Sirius asked, glancing over his book at Hermione. She shrugged helplessly, and checked her watch. Her eyes widened, and she leapt to her feet.

"It's after one!" she told them, and she made a mental note of the page number. "Thanks for breaking me out of my reading mode, Sirius. We might have starved otherwise. Time for another cooking lesson, Lewis. Coming?"

"But of course," the Curate said. He followed her out of the room, leaving Sirius to bring up the rear as Padfoot.

"Pity there's no wishing charm," Hermione remarked as they pulled out ingredients, utensils, and the like. Lewis was a fast learner—all three of them were—and was getting quite adept at cooking for someone who had only been introduced to food within the last few months. "Then we could wish for a solution."

"You know what I worry about?" he asked, pausing as he laid out the big chopping board.

"What's that?" Sirius asked, back in human form and perched on a stool to watch.

"That the Judges will insist on the two of your marrying, because of my outburst." He worried away at his lower lip, and Hermione patted him on the back.

"Don't think about that," she told him. "We're safe from them here."

"I still need to return to my office at some stage," he said, and he looked thoughtful while getting out a bread knife.

"Careful there," Sirius warned him, and Lewis paid more attention to what he was doing, managing to avoid slicing the palm of his left hand.

"Thanks," he said.

"We can go to your office after lunch if you like," Hermione suggested.

"Perhaps tomorrow morning," was the reply. "We could wander around the garden first; get a bit of fresh air."

"If ever we leave the Veil…" Sirius began, but he trailed off. The others looked at him.

"What?" Hermione prompted.

"You should come with us," Sirius suggested to Lewis, who looked up immediately. This time, Hermione had to grab the knife from his hand before he dropped it. Then the Curate smiled, and nodded. Hermione also nodded at Sirius, only it was a nod of approval. This greatly cheered the Azkaban refugee, who ducked his head, fighting back a silly grin.

* * *

Another session of the duelling club was held that evening, and Professor Snape made sure that he had consumed a vial of Pepper-up potion first, followed by black coffee. The students were chatting amongst themselves when he reached the room, banging the doors open and striding in. Talk ceased immediately, and he smirked to himself as he reached the middle of the room in blissful silence.

"You all _seem_ to have been improving," he admitted grudgingly, and several of the students smiled at the veiled praise. "But this has been in one-on-one duelling with everyone else watching. This evening, I want more students duelling at the same time, so that it will be closer to a battle situation. Get together three pairs while I set the wards."

As noise broke out, he began to cast an oval of shielding charms. In the end, the students worked out three pairs, and the professor let them all inside the wards before closing them off. He made sure that the outside students were standing well back.

Immediately, he regretted his decision to let them choose on their own. He had been trying to choose less volatile students for the fighting since he was revealed to be a spy, particularly as he wasn't sure what kind of support he had from the Slytherins. Now the students had paired off, he could only worry: Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, Dennis Creevey and Hannah Abbott, and Ginny Weasley and Ernie MacMillan. He pursed his lips, McGonagall-style, and waited until they were all concentrating. Finally, he gave them the signal to begin, and watched the duel with practised eyes.

Things seemed to be going well. There were shouts of various spells from the six students, and he yelled at anyone who used something too harmful or dark. They should have known better by now; and, he was ashamed to say, the darker spells came from his Slytherins, though that was hardly surprising.

It was when they started duelling each other that things got strained. Blaise took on Hannah, Draco took on Ginny, and Dennis and Ernie were duelling each other, though they were mainly watching the others, ready to defend their friends should the need arise.

And the need arose.

Draco's curses were becoming darker, and he was ignoring Professor Snape's shouts. Finally, the teacher stalked forward, about to provide a big enough gap in the wards to break through without endangering the outside students, when a mauve-coloured spell broke forth from the blonde's wand at the same time Blaise aimed at Ginny. Dennis, who was closest to the Gryffindor, tried to push her out of the way of both charms, and his wand arm was hit with Draco's curse. The young Gryffindor was blasted off his feet, and Professor Snape disarmed the remaining students as soon as he completely dissolved the barrier.

It was chaos. The Gryffindors jumped the two Slytherins, and Ginny and the professor were kneeling beside Dennis. Someone went for Professor Dumbledore, and another student was sent to inform Madame Pomfrey that they were on their way. A stretcher was conjured, and the youngest Creevey was taken to the hospital wing. He was losing a lot of blood from his right shoulder. Colin was running behind Professor Snape, hoping that his brother would be okay, and wondering how he would explain this to his Muggle parents.

* * *

Despite the fact that everything inside the Veil was basically manufactured, the air outside of their rooms was sweet after the stifling indoors. The flowers had wilted somewhat without Lewis' attention. He only felt a little guilty, and instead concentrated on watching Sirius and Hermione, to make sure that they didn't get caught up in the dangerously beautiful atmosphere. They ended up in his office, where Lewis proceeded to systematically get out every record he had made over time. There were more than any of them had imagined.

"Had too much time on your hands, didn't you?" Sirius remarked, carting a bundle of files over to the place on the floor where they were being stacked. Lewis had decided to burn them all, and Hermione and Sirius were there to make sure that the blaze didn't get out of hand, no matter how tempting it was to burn the whole office. Hermione stood near the door so that they could let air in to keep the fire burning.

"Clearly," Lewis said good-naturedly, dumping another armful of papers on the pile with a flourish. He knew that, as soon as this was done, he would have a great sense of freedom and relief, not to mention closure. "And… that's the last lot," he added as Sirius three the last three files on top.

"Something missing?" Hermione asked, pointing to the Book of the Veil seated on the desk. Lewis frowned at the tome.

"No," he said softly. "That's all." He picked up the box of matches that he had made appear on the desk, and struck one. It took a few attempts, but when he was successful, he set the records alight. Hermione opened the door a crack, and Sirius drew his wand, creating a slight breeze to encourage the flames. Soon, the middle papers were burning, and they stared as Lewis' work over the centuries was destroyed before their eyes.

"It's happening," she whispered, unable to believe it. Sirius moved to her side, and pulled her into a one-armed hug. "They'll be so mad," she continued, referring to the Judges of the Veil.

"Then we'll marry," Sirius told her simply, and her head jerked up to meet his eyes. "I don't mind anymore, Hermione. Maybe domesticity has finally got to me. But if we have to marry… well, we'll drag Lewis through the exit with us, won't we?" Lewis, who had been staring at the flames, finally chuckled, and looked up. None of them noticed the door opening.

* * *

Dennis' wand arm had been all but severed off, and Madame Pomfrey was worried that they may have to amputate within a few days. It was declared inoperable, but specialists from St. Mungo's had been called in nevertheless. Professor Snape couldn't stand around forever, and remained restless even after he had collected together and delivered every potion that may help. Dumbledore had told him to stop beating himself up, but knew the potions master better than to suppose his advice would be taken.

The DADA professor ended up wandering around the corridors, ending on the seventh floor, near the Room of Requirement. He would have rolled his eyes had he not been so tightly wound up, unable to believe that his walk had brought him here. Maybe he needed to be here.

Maybe he was _required_ to be here.

"What we need is Miss Granger," he murmured to himself, pacing back and forth before the dancing trolls. "If only she'd been here, I wouldn't have been so distracted by trying to find a way to get her out of the Veil. Then I wouldn't have been so tired from lack of sleep. Bloody war."

He couldn't help but think about a way into the Veil as he moved back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall. He'd passed by at least five times before he noticed the door.

"What on… It can't have been this simple!"

Nevertheless, he strode forward, and yanked on the handle. Warmth hit him immediately, as well as the flicking light of a fire. He raised his eyebrows, and almost jumped in his place when he heard her voice.

"Professor Snape!"

**

* * *

**

*Jaw drop*

**Okay, we'll still be in the same format, alternating between the Veil and the Outside World in the next chapter, and then we'll see where we go from there, shall we? And, most of all, did you enjoy this chapter? I think the story shall amount to 25 chapters, and perhaps a sequel if you like. But I should be able to wrap up everything by the end. If not, we'll just go on to chapter 30, much as I loathe to extend it that much if it means waffling.**

**Did I have you worried when I mentioned the door opening? *Morecambe-esque grin***


	23. The Virtue of Virtue

"The Virtue of Virtue"

_The DADA professor ended up wandering around the corridors, ending on the seventh floor, near the Room of Requirement. He would have rolled his eyes had he not been so tightly wound up, unable to believe that his walk had brought him here. Maybe he needed to be here._

_Maybe he was required to be here._

"_What we need is Miss Granger," he murmured to himself, pacing back and forth before the dancing trolls. "If only she'd been here, I wouldn't have been so distracted by trying to find a way to get her out of the Veil. Then I wouldn't have been so tired from lack of sleep. Bloody war."_

_He couldn't help but think about a way into the Veil as he moved back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall. He'd passed by at least five times before he noticed the door._

"_What on… It can't have been this simple!"_

_Nevertheless, he strode forward, and yanked on the handle. Warmth hit him immediately, as well as the flicking light of a fire. He raised his eyebrows, and almost jumped in his place when he heard her voice._

"_Professor Snape!"_

"Oh, it just _had_ to be Snivellus, didn't it?" Sirius muttered, rolling his eyes. He removed the fire magically as Hermione darted around it. Severus Snape was astonished, at the very least, to see them. He stood there at the door, unmoving, not willing to put a foot into this room. His surprise increased when Hermione leapt over the threshold into his arms, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh, Professor, you found us!" she cried, and she laughed as she tightened her hold around his shoulders, the laughs interspersed with sobs of relief. Lewis had also left the room after her, and Sirius was almost at the door. He didn't like the fact that the potions master was actually returning the girl's embrace—well, patting her on the back reassuringly. He growled, and followed Lewis out the door.

Well, _tried_ to follow him.

"What the…" he began, looking at the empty space he _should_ have been able to walk through. "Why can't _I_ get through?"

"What?" Hermione and Lewis asked simultaneously, and Hermione let go of the potions master. She turned around swiftly, and discovered that, when they both tried to put their arms through to help Sirius out, they couldn't get through. "You mean… only two of us could have left?"

"I'm… I'm so sorry, Sirius," Lewis said, looking horrified. "I… I didn't know…"

"That's not the reason," a familiar voice said, and the Veil Trio looked up in astonishment, Sirius turning around where he stood, to see the four Judges of the Veil standing in the room. One had spoken. "It has nothing to do with how many can leave or stay."

"Then why am I unable to leave?" Sirius asked, his teeth clenched and hands balled into fists.

"Because you are not pure… sexually," Four said, adding the last word as an afterthought. Professor Snape's eyebrows shot up, his gaze flitting between all seven people before him, wondering if he should have sent for the headmaster by now. But would it help?

"So you mean that I can't leave because I'm not a virgin?" Sirius asked incredulously. "What kind of reason is that?"

"Think, Sirius," Hermione hissed. "The reason the Veil became associated with such horrible things is because of a woman who had lost her… virtue."

"Wow, my mother was right about something."

"What did she say?"

"Never you mind. Suffice to say, not all purebloods are as… _pure_, verbally."

Lewis snorted in amusement, but then shut up at Sirius' scathing look.

"So what do we do now? We can't get back in," the Curate reminded the Judges.

"We will allow one of you back into the Veil," Three said. "But only one. You must now decide; and choose well. This entrance cannot be used again."

"If that's true, then I must return to Sirius," Hermione told Lewis.

"No, Hermione. It's not safe; you know that as well as I do."

"But he can't marry _you_, Lewis! If, in the end, that's the only way he can leave the Veil, then he needs me." Before anyone could contradict her undeniable logic, she nodded at the Judges, and Two raised his hands. There was a slight shimmer of magic, and Hermione leapt into the room. She turned and smiled at the two men still in the seventh floor corridor at Hogwarts.

"Miss Granger," Professor Snape said, and she tilted her head. "Do you still have that book?"

"Which book? Oh! Yes, I do. Shall I get it?"

"Please do."

"I'll be right back."

* * *

"How are you feeling, Dennis?" Colin asked his younger brother. Dennis blinked at him blearily through the haze of pain relieving potions.

"What happened?" he asked hoarsely. "Why can't I feel my arm?"

The older boy nervously knocked some of the blonde hair out of his face, and sighed. "They had to… remove it. Only temporarily!" he added frantically when Dennis' face fell. "If they can't find some way to reattach it, they'll grow you a new one, or even _make_ a new one. You'll see."

"Okay," Dennis said, and he lay back down on the pillows again. "I'm tired. I think I'd like to sleep now."

"All right," Colin said, and he watched guiltily as his sibling fell asleep quickly. Why did _he_ have been the one in the hospital bed?

* * *

Hermione ran all the way to their rooms, and ran all the way back. She burst into the office, pushed past the judges again, and ran to the door. She was able to shove the book through until the magical shield hit her hand, and the DADA professor had to pull it through the rest of the way; but he had it within seconds.

"It's in Latin," she said apologetically.

"I can read Latin as easily as I can English," Professor Snape replied, and he smirked as Sirius rolled his eyes. "Never fear, Miss Granger."

"I've read some of it, but I kept having to consult a Latin dictionary," she confessed. "I hope you'll be able to find what he was looking for, sir."

"I'm sure I'll be able to. Thank you… Hermione."

"How are things going?"

"Well…"

As he told them what had been happening since Hermione jumped through the Veil, the Judges conspired. With this new disturbance, they had the chance to change the speed of time in the Veil again. This time, there would be no input from Lewis. One day out there would equate to three days here. Miss Granger's birthday had to approach swiftly, before they could find another way out of the Veil. They had done research, and found that this was the fastest they could make the time flow without doing any damage to either Mr. Black's or Miss Granger's bodies.

* * *

"Where's Professor Snape, sir?" Ginny asked the headmaster, who was watching Dennis sleeping.

"He went for a walk," was the calm reply.

"I'm sorry about this, Prof…"

"I'll see if I can find Severus," Dumbledore said. He was still a bit shell-shocked over this business, and drifted out of the infirmary, intent on finding his potions master.

He ran into the dark-haired former spy making his way down from the sixth floor, conversing in low voices with a stranger who had soot on his trousers. They looked down in surprise when they saw the headmaster, and Professor Snape almost smiled. He jumped down the last two steps and held up _Oracula Atrum Solus Inhio_.

"What is it, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

"The book that Miss Granger stole from Rabastan Lestrange," the potions master said, smirking. Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"Where did you get it from?" he asked.

**

* * *

**

Hope everyone had a good Easter. It's Easter Monday here, and I went to the gym only to find that it wasn't open, yet it was yesterday. Who opens on Easter Sunday and not Easter Monday? Weird…


	24. Filling in the Blanks

"Filling in the Blanks"

"_I'll see if I can find Severus," Dumbledore said. He was still a bit shell-shocked over this business, and drifted out of the infirmary, intent on finding his potions master._

_He ran into the dark-haired former spy making his way down from the sixth floor, conversing in low voices with a stranger who had soot on his trousers. They looked down in surprise when they saw the headmaster, and Professor Snape almost smiled. He jumped down the last two steps and held up Oracula Atrum Solus Inhio._

"_What is it, Severus?" Dumbledore asked._

"_The book that Miss Granger stole from Rabastan Lestrange," the potions master said, smirking. Dumbledore's eyes widened._

"_Where did you get it from?" he asked._

It took awhile for Lewis to explain the entire story, both the parts that he had witnessed himself, and the parts that he understood from Hermione and Sirius. Dumbledore listened patiently the whole time, nodding. Professor Snape, meanwhile, was studying the introduction to _Oracula Atrum Solus Inhio_. His mind was taking in all that Lewis said, but he was still able to spare some attention for the text in front of him.

"So what are your plans, Lewis?" the headmaster asked. The man shrugged.

"I've never been outside of the Veil," he said. "I suppose… the possibilities are endless, aren't they?"

"Logical assumption," Professor Snape remarked, still reading. "Headmaster, I must set about translating this book. I will be able to concentrate better if this is all written down."

"I can help!" Lewis exclaimed, and the potions master raised his eyebrows at the stranger's enthusiasm. "I've had to do a lot of writing over the years—keeping the Veil's records, as that was why I was created—and haven't had much else to do. I could write the translation, if you like."

"Only if you can keep up," the professor replied, standing. "But may I recommend a walk around the castle and its grounds first? No doubt you'll wish to savour a healthier… environment." He sneered at the word, unable to think of any better way to put it. Lewis nodded. "I will make arrangements for your assistance. It has been a long day."

"We won't go out tonight," Dumbledore reassured him, and the Defence professor left with a nod. He then beamed at Lewis, who smiled back hesitantly. "You are most welcome to Hogwarts, of course."

"But one of the others would have been more welcome," Lewis replied. "Is that it?"

"Not at all. Miss Granger has acted both bravely and logically. You'll be of much help here, I am sure."

"I hope so. Thank you for allowing me to stay here temporarily, Mr. Dumbledore."

"Please. Call me 'Albus'."

"Thank you… Albus."

* * *

"C'mon," Sirius murmured to Hermione. He grabbed her right hand in his left one, and then dragged her through the office, which still had lingering smoke from the extinguished fire. They broke into a run once they were outside, not daring to wait around near the Judges. The sky darkened gradually. Sirius opened the door to their quarters, and propelled Hermione into their living room before following her. He closed the door, the magic of the Veil locking it for them, and then turned to her. She blushed at his curious gaze, and looked away.

"So," she finally said, desperate for something other than silence.

"You're willing to marry me," he said quietly, and she looked up at him.

"W-we need you, Sirius," she replied. "Harry needs you, particularly. I'm willing to do anything to help…"

"You are a true Gryffindor, Hermione Granger," Sirius told her admiringly. "I don't know of many who would do what you're willing to do. You'd plead with the Devil himself to look after your friends, wouldn't you?"

"Only if he wasn't willing to negotiate," Hermione replied blithely. One second passed, and then they both collapsed into hysterical laughter. She fell against Sirius, weak from mirth, and they held onto each other until they could calm down.

"Thank you, Hermione," Sirius whispered, giving her a quick squeeze of a hug before letting her go.

"For what?" she asked, tilting her head. He smiled, and stroked her hair.

"For being you," he said. "Now. Dinner?"

"Certainly," she said, and she glanced at her watch. Sirius frowned when he saw her go pale.

"What?" he asked.

"Sirius… look at the minute hand on your watch."

"What about it… Oh. Oh, that's just great."

"It makes me dizzy just to look at it," Hermione admitted, near tears. The minute hand was moving faster than usual. It wasn't difficult to work out that the Judges had used the temporary disturbance to turn things to their advantage. "Well," she said shakily. "I think you're right. Time for… it's about time we…"

"Let's just have dinner," Sirius interrupted, and Hermione nodded, relieved that he had found the words that she couldn't. If ever they got out of this place, she was never looking at another watch.

* * *

Lewis had been right to volunteer; he adapted to a Self-Inking Quill admirably, and it was only a matter of half an hour before his hand was confidently flying over the parchment, taking down the translation as Professor Snape spoke it. Dumbledore was most interested in getting a full translation of the text, as it was just more proverbial ammunition against Voldemort. The Defence teacher decided to nominate Miss Granger for an Order of Merlin… if she got out of this alive. If they _all_ got out of this alive.

She had certainly earned it.

"End of the introduction," he said, and Lewis just stopped himself from writing that in time. His eyes skimmed over the writing, and nodded in approval at the end. He handed the pieces of parchment to Professor Snape with a smile. The potions master merely nodded. "Thank you… Lewis. You really must get a last name."

"What would you suggest?" the Curate asked, bending forward on the library desk in interest.

"It's not me you should be asking," came the sage reply as Professor Snape ran his left hand down his face. "The headmaster will be here s…"

"I'm here now, Severus," Dumbledore said, approaching the two men. "I'm here to take Lewis to the guest quarters. Thank you both for your help so far. You may return to your rooms, Severus. And leave the book with me."

"Yes, headmaster," Professor Snape replied, and he stood with a sigh. Lewis also stood, scooping together the translation of the introduction. He placed the pieces of parchment inside the front cover, and gave it to the headmaster. The potions master said his good nights, and left the library. As Dumbledore and Lewis walked along, he repeated his question.

"What should my last name be?" he asked, and the headmaster chuckled.

"I think Severus meant that it should be Miss Granger who helps you choose your last name, if you are unable to decide by yourself. If you should ask anyone for an opinion…"

"You're both right," Lewis said, and he kicked an imaginary stone as they walked to the guest quarters. "Thank you, Albus. You've been most helpful."

"Ah," Dumbledore said, stopping outside the portrait of Jareth the Jilted. "But you have been far more helpful, and you've only been here a few hours. So I must thank you."

"You're welcome," Lewis said, inclining his head. Then he glanced at the portrait. "Uh…"

"The password is 'Toby'," Jareth the Jilted said, his left eye twitching at the name. "Feel free to change it."

"I'm too tired to think about that at the moment," Lewis replied. "But I'll think about it tomorrow. How's that?"

"What is one more day?" Jareth asked, and he sighed. The portrait swung forward, and Lewis entered the room. He turned, thanked the headmaster, and then went straight to bed, muttering the password to himself repeatedly so that he wouldn't forget it.

* * *

"Morning," Sirius said sleepily from Hermione's doorway. She looked up at him from her bed, bleary-eyed.

"What time of day is it?" she asked.

"Who cares? Let's just have some breakfast."

"…Okay. Uh… what day of the week is it?"

"Hermione, I don't know! I'm tired, and I'm hungry. Want some pancakes?"

"Yes, please," Hermione replied, sitting up in bed. She wasn't at all affected by his grumpiness, as she felt the same way. She struggled to stand, wondering if the 'time difference' was the reason they were so tired. Sirius walked over to her, and held out both his hand. When she pulled on them to try to stand, the result was that she accidentally pulled him on top of her. He fell off and onto the floor in shock. With mumbled apologies to each other, they finally stumbled into the kitchen. Sirius turned on the water in the sink, running it freezing cold, before splashing some onto his face.

"Don't know why I didn't do that in the bathroom," he remarked. "Guess I'm too tired to think much."

"I don't blame you," Hermione said, and she slumped onto one of the stools by the counter. "Need any h-help?" she continued, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn. Sirius smiled tiredly, and shook his head.

"Just concentrate on waking up so that you can put out any fires or other catastrophes," he told her. She giggled weakly.

"Maybe I should have a quick wash instead," she replied.

"Good idea. I'll get started here. Come back soon."

"If I don't fall asleep on the way there… or the way back." They smiled at each other, before Hermione left the room.

**

* * *

**

I've now since become obsessed with _**Labyrinth**_**, which is why I added Jareth to this story. I'm planning to write some **_**Labyrinth**_** fan fiction, as well as a cross-over fic. In fact, some of my probably-not-genius ideas are already being developed. In my head, but developed nonetheless.**

**I'm estimating only six chapters left after this. Hope you continue to enjoy this story. R&R, fair readers! R&R…**


	25. Decisions, Decisions

"Decisions, Decisions"

"_I don't blame you," Hermione said, and she slumped onto one of the stools by the counter. "Need any h-help?" she continued, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn. Sirius smiled tiredly, and shook his head._

"_Just concentrate on waking up so that you can put out any fires or other catastrophes," he told her. She giggled weakly._

"_Maybe I should have a quick wash instead," she replied._

"_Good idea. I'll get started here. Come back soon."_

"_If I don't fall asleep on the way there… or the way back." They smiled at each other, before Hermione left the room._

Hermione emerged from the bathroom feeling somewhat refreshed. She only kept her watch on because Lewis had made it for her. It just made her unhappy whenever she looked at the time, so she kept her eyes away from it.

Not having the energy to get dressed _just_ yet, Hermione returned to her room to put on underwear, and then pulled on her dressing gown. She tottered into the dining area just as Sirius was laying out plates of scrambled eggs and toast. Glasses of water and cutlery were already in place. He turned, and his eyes bugged out slightly at the sight of her bare legs poking out from underneath the robe. His plate of toast fell the last inch-and-a-half to the table, and he gave Hermione a shaky smile when she glanced at him.

"My lady," he said, and he pulled out her chair for her. Once she was seated, Hermione gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, kind sir," she said, and he shakily levitated the condiments over to the table from where he had left them on the counter.

As they ate, they thought about what to do. Sirius was the first to break the silence.

"Do you think we should try to explore some more of the Veil?" he asked, and she knocked over the salt shaker. Fortunately it hadn't been her glass of water, which was what she had been reaching for. "Sorry," he said, and he magically cleaned up the salt. Hermione blushed, and had a sip of her water.

"I think the real question is: dare we leave these rooms?"

"'Dare we leave'? Going Victorian, are you?"

"No. You're the one who started the conversation with 'My lady'."

"Oh. Right. Well, we'd have to go to Lewis' off… the office sometime, if we wanted to find another way out."

"I suppose you're right," Hermione said, and she sighed as she slumped back in her chair. "So what do we do?"

* * *

Lewis was having trouble sleeping. Tired he may have been; but it had been three hours, and he was still awake.

"Toby, Toby, Toby," he kept muttering occasionally. He really needed to change the password. Jareth, the painting guarding his rooms, clearly didn't like it. He could always make the password 'Hermione', but that would be too obvious. Same with 'Sirius', and 'Veil'. Perhaps 'Four Judges'? But that would bring back bad memories.

He growled, frustrated. He wanted to know more about this Voldemort person. The library seemed to be the best bet. His friends had told him a lot about the war, and Hermione had told him all about the school library. The madman had to be destroyed, and he was determined to help bring this about. If he didn't know about the life behind the Veil, he would have suggested throwing this 'Dark Lord' in there. But, as he knew that the end result wasn't death—contrary to popular belief—it would just be endangering the other inhabitants of the Veil.

Hmm. Considering the nutcases there, perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing. Assuming, of course, that they were able to get the people like Sirius and Hermione out of there. And those other people…

"How could I have forgotten them?" he shouted to himself, sitting up in bed. He had to tell Professor Dumbledore. Not that anything could be done about them, of course…

"Perhaps in the morning," he said, finally feeling tired enough to fall asleep. He collapsed back into bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

"Well, there would be the advantage of safety in numbers," Hermione mused while they washed the dishes.

"What numbers?" Sirius asked, and he let out a bark of laughter. "Just the two of us, Hermione. No. What we need is a plan. We need a map of this place. Surely there must be _someone_ else in the Veil other than the crazy couples. Did Lewis ever say anything to you…?"

"I can't remember. I was reading most of the time, remember? He _did _tell me _some _of the Veil's history. Do you… do you think we could find a map in his office? There might be something there."

"That's true," Sirius admitted. "Shall we go now?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows, and glanced down at their 'outfits'. Sirius chuckled, trying his hardest not to look at the top of her dressing gown, which was open a bit too far for his heart to stand. He cleared his throat.

"We _do_ need to… finish the dishes," he said, and Hermione laughed.

"We shouldn't go searching until we know our way around, and can make sure that we'll be okay," she said. Sirius agreed, and once the dishes were washed, dried, and put away, they separated to get ready to go out.

"Bring a torch, just in case it gets dark early!" Sirius called from his room, where he was getting changed.

"All right!"

* * *

The boys in the Gryffindor sixth years' dormitory were talking. They were discussing the war, the duelling club; everything. The sixth year girls had joined them, and they were now all on the topic of Hermione, and even Sirius.

"And we thought that he was a criminal," Dean said, shaking his head. "Just shows you, doesn't it?"

"An' all the times we thought Snape was against us," Seamus added.

Harry made a non-committal sound, and cuddled closer to Ginny. A dark look from Ron made him move back again, sighing. Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother, and gave him a defiant look as she to Harry's side.

"We should all be working out how to defeat You-Know-Who, shouldn't we?" Neville asked timidly, and Harry nodded.

"How do we do that?" Parvati asked. She and Lavender were sitting on the floor, arms flung around each other's shoulders.

"We read," Ron said, shrugging. "In the library. There's bound to be something, isn't there?"

"I only wish _she_ was here," Harry murmured, and Ginny patted his knee. Ron was just about ready to start his best friend. Lavender, seeing this, jumped to her feet, and sat next to the redhead, trying to distract him. Couldn't have him killing the Chosen One over his sister, could they? Parvati smiled, realising what her best friend was doing. In fact, the only oblivious one in the room was Ron, who appreciated the attentions that the blonde was granting him. She stroked his back, nuzzled his shoulder, and whispered reassuring things. Parvati stretched out on the floor, back against Neville's bed, and placed her folded arms behind her head. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad if they all teamed up together.

**

* * *

**

Okay. As usual, I had difficulties writing this. I mean, I've got the rest of it plotted out. I always have more difficulties with the Sirione stories. After I've finished this, it will no doubt be awhile before I attempt another one of these fictions. Anyway, I'm trying to make it so that this story goes for 30 chapters. Any of you read "That One Little Word" and its sequel, "Those Three Little Words"? My other, probably pathetic, attempts at writing Hermione/Sirius romances.


	26. In the Office

"In the Office"

"_We should all be working out how to defeat You-Know-Who, shouldn't we?" Neville asked timidly, and Harry nodded._

"_How do we do that?" Parvati asked. She and Lavender were sitting on the floor, arms flung around each other's shoulders._

"_We read," Ron said, shrugging. "In the library. There's bound to be something, isn't there?"_

"_I only wish she was here," Harry murmured, and Ginny patted his knee. Ron was just about ready to start his best friend. Lavender, seeing this, jumped to her feet, and sat next to the redhead, trying to distract him. Couldn't have him killing the Chosen One over his sister, could they? Parvati smiled, realising what her best friend was doing. In fact, the only oblivious one in the room was Ron, who appreciated the attentions that the blonde was granting him. She stroked his back, nuzzled his shoulder, and whispered reassuring things. Parvati stretched out on the floor, back against Neville's bed, and placed her folded arms behind her head. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad if they all teamed up together._

"This is hopeless!" Harry exclaimed slamming the book shut. He placed his head in his hands. Even Ginny massaging his shoulders couldn't relax him. "And I'm supposed to get this memory from Professor Slughorn. I don't know how to do it, and I know that Dumbledore's frustrated with me."

After deciding to find out how to defeat Voldemort, they had woken up the next morning early, and got to the library before breakfast. Fortunately, it was open, and they were able to borrow out some Defence Against the Dark Arts books.

"How hard have you tried?" Ron asked tactlessly. "Because, let's be honest, Harry, you don't always try that hard. I mean, look at when you were trying to learn Occlumency."

Harry glared at him. "You're one to talk, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Stop it!" Lavender shouted before things could get out of hand.

* * *

The next evening, after they had had dinner, Hermione and Sirius sneaked out of their rooms and broke into Lewis' office with a non-verbal Unlocking charm.

"Where do we look first?" she whispered.

"I don't know!" he replied, trying to keep his voice quiet. "Lumos."

Hermione echoed the spell, and they began to search the office. "Pity we burned all those records," she muttered. "There might have been something…"

"I didn't notice any maps," Sirius said. "And I kept an eye out for something like that. Did you see anything?"

"No," she admitted. "Hey. Is that quill around?"

"What quill… oh! The quill!"

"Shh!"

"I don't know where it is. You're right. Let's look for that instead."

"Okay," Hermione said, half-amused, and half-worried that someone might find them. She didn't know who frightened her more: the Four Judges or the 'married couples'. "Sirius?" she asked suddenly.

"What _is_ it, Hermione?"

"Why aren't we trying to Summon them?"

He paused. "Accio Lewis' magic quill." Nothing happened. "That's why."

"Accio quills," she said, and a pile of quill landed at her feet. "Recognise any of these?"

"Hmph."

"I'll check them, then. You keep looking for a map."

"Fine." He sounded grumpy. He was only being sarcastic before; he hadn't really thought that Summoning would work, otherwise he would have been serious. Well, he _was_ serious. Ha! he thought. But then he realised that that pun worked better said out loud.

"Got it!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Shh!"

"Sorry. I think I've found it, though."

"Then pray that the desk still works."

"…Oh. I hadn't thought of that."

"No. Go on. Have a go. I haven't found anything yet."

"Okay."

While Hermione worked on Lewis' old desk, trying out different wishes as though she was trying to enter the Room of Requirement, Sirius continued to search through any files that hadn't been burnt, either because they were untouched by the fire, or they were left behind in their haste to make the bonfire. He opened yet another drawer, and Hermione tapped the quill on the desk yet again.

They had success at the exact same moment.

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed. "I found a list!"

"I got the map!" Hermione cried, lifting it. Then they realised how loud they'd been.

"Let's go," he said, and he grabbed her arm. While he clutched the list in his right hand, she kept a tight hold on Lewis' quill, the rolled-up map under her arm, and they ran from the silver-and-wood office.

* * *

At the same time the Gryffindors were plotting to get rid of Voldemort, and Hermione and Sirius were running through the darkness to their rooms, Lewis and Professor Snape were continuing to translate the book. They had almost finished the first three chapters; three very long, very convoluted, chapters.

"Did you ever feel this frustrated when you were doing… whatever you were doing in the Veil?" the professor asked. Lewis hesitated, considering his answer.

"Yes," he finally said, just when Professor Snape thought that he hadn't heard. "Working in my gardens was relaxing; but the paperwork… well, that was boring, actually. Making my 'reports' to the Four Judges of the Veil was frustrating, yes. Dealing with the other inhabitants of the Veil… it varied. The couples were just… strange. The single people who came through the Veil, either by choice or otherwise… for the most part, they were okay. Only a few ever wanted to leave, and most of them grew accustomed to life there. Not to the obsessive degree that the couples did…"

The potions master hadn't really been expecting a response; certainly not like this. Usually, he was a man of very few words, and rarely participated in polite conversation. But he found himself growing more interested in what Lewis was saying.

"…but because so many marriages have taken place in front of the Veil, its power are more likely to affect married couples, aren't they? At least, the ones who are already married. I hope the same thing doesn't happen to Hermione and Sirius."

"We all hope that."

"Yes. Funny. Last time I visited the single people in their part of the Veil there was only one person—a man—who wanted to return to the outside world."

"What was his name?" he inquired out of curiosity.

* * *

"What's the list all about?" Hermione asked. Sirius shrugged. "Well, aren't you Mr. Helpful?"

"We've only just got back here," he complained, and he threw himself into his chair beside the fire."

"I feel bad," she admitted.

"I should hope so. I haven't had time to read it…"

"No; I mean that I feel bad that _I_ haven't been reading. Any of the books, I mean."

"Charming," he said, and he punctuated the word with a derisive snort.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sirius. I haven't had time to look at the map myself, so I can hardly talk, can I? I guess I just assumed that you knew what the list was about, since you brought it with you."

"I was more concerned with getting us out of there," he said, and he shrugged again. Hermione smiled at him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek before sitting down. He coloured, and held the list close to his face to hide the redness, pretending to study it carefully. It was then that he realised that the list was slightly waterlogged, and he really did have to squint to read it. "Hmm."

"Interesting?"

"Is it the map we want?"

"What? Oh, yes." Hermione was blushing herself from having given Sirius a kiss… yet again. "Yes, it's the one."

"Good. Because this is a list of people who have entered the Veil at some point or other, who are all _single_. No married couples among them. Male _and_ female," he added, smirking. Hermione felt an irrational stab of jealousy.

"Does it give names?"

"Yes; but I can't read all of them. This is one of the lists hit with water when I doused the flames."

"Oh. I… uh… I'm sorry about that."

"The left side has a series of years—when they each fell into the Veil, maybe?"

"Perhaps."

"The last two entries must be us—both in 1996. Both have asterisks drawn beside them. Ah; here's a key. It says that the asterisks indicate which people still want to leave the Veil, no matter what. Only one other, and that's the entry before mine. Can't read the name, but the year's 1979."

**

* * *

**

Who is it? A round of applause shall be award for each person who correctly deduces the identity of the mysterious 'other person'.

**Only four more chapters after this one.**

…**Hurrah?**


	27. Finding Singleton

"Finding Singleton"

"_Does it give names?"_

"_Yes; but I can't read all of them. This is one of the lists hit with water when I doused the flames."_

"_Oh. I… uh… I'm sorry about that."_

"_The left side has a series of years—when they each fell into the Veil, maybe?"_

"_Perhaps."_

"_The last two entries must be us—both in 1996. Both have asterisks drawn beside them. Ah; here's a key. It says that the asterisks indicate which people still want to leave the Veil, no matter what. Only one other, and that's the entry before mine. Can't read the name, but the year's 1979."_

"Well, no doubt we'll find out who it is," Hermione reasoned. Sirius nodded, frowning while he stared at the date. Finally, he shrugged, and folded up the list.

"Let's take a look at that map," he said, and they went into the dining area, where she spread it out on the table. They both ran their gazes—and fingertips—over the map. At one point, their hands accidentally grazed each other, and they both pulled back, startled. Wordlessly, Sirius moved to the other side of the table, looking at the top half of the map, leaving Hermione to finish studying the bottom half. Minutes later…

"I think I've found something," they said at the same time, pointing to the same section at the right side of the map, halfway down the parchment. Hermione blushed, and Sirius cleared his throat.

"Right," he said. "Nice to know we're of a like mind."

"We've been living together too long," she remarked, and then blushed even redder when she realised the double entendre.

"Where are we on the map?" he asked, distracting her. She smiled at him gratefully, and then looked for Lewis' office. They worked out where their quarters were by that, and congratulated each other on their accomplishments.

"How long do you think it will take to get there?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But we'll set out early tomorrow. Better pack tonight before bed, and make something quick for breakfast in the morning."

"Right. Well, I'm tired, so I'm going to bed. Do you want to keep the map with you?"

"You're more organised than I am."

"Yes," she said, grinning, "but I'm thinking about your history with maps."

"Ah." He smirked back. "Still, you'd better look after it."

"All right. Good night, Sirius."

"Good night, Hermione."

* * *

They had broken up the brewing argument between Harry and Ron fairly effectively; after all, they were all worried about Hermione and Sirius, particularly as there was a chance that they might still be alive. Right now, they had to worry about defeating Voldemort. Simply going to the library didn't seem to be enough.

"What would Hermione do?" Parvati wondered aloud.

"What would _Sirius_ do?" Harry muttered.

"What would they both do, together?" Ginny mused.

"Break the rules by doing research where they shouldn't," Ron said.

"The Restricted Section, then?" Neville suggested, not being serious. But then they all looked at each other, and realised what a good idea it was.

"That's it," Lavender said. "So… what do we do now?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"They cloak," they said.

"The Invisibility Cloak," Ginny said, clarifying it for everyone else.

"You have an Invisibility Cloak?" Dean asked.

"Do you know how useful that would be, Harry?" Seamus asked, his eyes widening.

"Yes; I have some idea, Seamus," Harry replied, amused.

"We should get Luna in on this," Ginny said. "She'll want to help."

"Of course," he said. "Will you let her know?"

"Padma will want to help, too," Parvati said.

"A lot of people will," Dean chimed in. Soon, they were verbally compiling a list of people who would want to be involved; most of them were from Dumbledore's Army, but other names were mentioned as well.

"Stop! Stop!" Harry said, raising his hands.

"Oi!" Ron yelled, and everyone shut up. "Thank you. Over to you, Harry," he added politely, and Harry nodded at him, also being jokingly-polite.

"Now, unless all these people are going to petition Dumbledore to let us to look in the Restricted Section, it would be far too dangerous for so many people to be sneaking into the library. If they wanted to, we could do this during the day, and they can be lookouts, and even provide distractions, if need be. But I think it'd be better if we try tackling this at night. Not everyone will be able to get under the Cloak; but the more of us searching there, the quicker we might find something. So let's begin planning, all right?"

* * *

Hermione and Sirius packed the list and the map last of all. They each had a change of clothes, a torch, a bottle of water, four sandwiches, an apple, a small blanket, toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, quill, ink bottle, and parchment. They no longer wore their watches, but had packed them anyway. Hermione had her travelling cloak, which Sirius placed around her shoulders. He also fastened the necklace he had given her around her neck, and embellished the cape with the matching pin.

"Stunning," he murmured, smiling down at her. Then he mentally berated himself, and turned away. Hermione blushed, and they both picked up their backpacks.

"Let's go," she said, and he held out his elbow. She linked her arm in his, smiled, and they left the safety of their rooms.

Once outside, they faced the glare of the day, and hurried along. They had memorised as much of the route as they could; the fewer stops they had to make, the less danger they were in, and the sooner they would get to the 'singles retreat', as Sirius so blithely put it. Hermione had rolled her eyes, muttered something about 'bachelordom', and finished making the sandwiches. Now that was all forgotten as they hurried along, elbows still entwined.

They conceded defeat an hour later. Hermione was also nervous that they might have strayed somewhere along the way; so they consulted the map. Using the trees in the garden, and comparing them with the layout of the gardens on the geographical chart, they discovered that they _were_ on the right track.

"Don't worry so much, `Mione," he said. "Now, come on. Let's refresh our memories."

"And have some water," she added. They both took a swig from their bottles, and then checked the map again. Once they were sure of the route they had to take next, they set off again, stopping two hours and thirty-one minutes later for lunch. Hermione had cut the sandwiches into halves, so that they could 'eke out our resources'. This was in the same conversation as the 'singles retreat'.

Another map-check—another confirmation that they were going in the right direction—and it only took another forty-four minutes to get to the right place.

"This is it," Sirius said quietly. "I can feel it."

"Will you knock, or shall I?"

"…I'll do it."

They both stepped up to the door, and Sirius rapped three times on one of the wooden panels. Half a minute later, the door opened. Hermione's mouth dropped open, and the two men stared at each other.

"Sirius?"

"_Regulus_?"

* * *

"Who?" Professor Snape blinked rapidly, thinking he might have misheard the Curate. But Lewis simply frowned, and replied in the affirmative. "I… I thought he was dead."

"I'm not sure how he got into the Veil, but there are many ways in. Just… no ways out, as far as we know. Problem is, unless a person actually comes in _through_ the Veil, they forget how they ended up there. That's partly why we don't know how to get out. No one can remember how they got there, so…"

"Well, he certainly disappeared," the potions master mused, barely hearing the explanation. "Maybe… perhaps if they find him, one of them can bring back his memory? Hmm." He stood, and quickly gathered everything together.

"What's wrong?" Lewis asked, tilting his head as he looked up at the professor.

"We have to tell the headmaster," he replied. "Come along."

**

* * *

**

And the rounds of applause go to:

**jetsamsrule31**

**moondolphin96**

**niccc**

**pureangel86**

**janisthegiant**

**Lotus Elixir**

**Well done for working out who it was, dear ones! Clearly, it is Regulus.**


	28. The Restricted Section

"The Restricted Section"

"_Who?" Professor Snape blinked rapidly, thinking he might have misheard the Curate. But Lewis simply frowned, and replied in the affirmative. "I… I thought he was dead."_

"_I'm not sure how he got into the Veil, but there are many ways in. Just… no ways out, as far as we know. Problem is, unless a person actually comes in through the Veil, they forget how they ended up there. That's partly why we don't know how to get out. No one can remember how they got there, so…"_

"_Well, he certainly disappeared," the potions master mused, barely hearing the explanation. "Maybe… perhaps if they find him, one of them can bring back his memory? Hmm." He stood, and quickly gathered everything together._

"_What's wrong?" Lewis asked, tilting his head as he looked up at the professor._

"_We have to tell the headmaster," he replied. "Come along."_

Harry felt as though he was back in his first year, breaking into the Restricted Section of the school library at the witching hour of midnight. Even breathing couldn't be heard, as he, Ron, Neville, Parvati, and Ginny crept through the bookshelves, not daring to make a sound. Dean and Seamus were stationed outside, and Lavender at the entrance to the Restricted Section. A few of the other students from Gryffindor had been in charge of creating diversions elsewhere in the castle, and two even covered the Raiders' tracks.

It had only taken a quick opening charm to enter the forbidden area of the library. They were now scouring the shelves, looking for any texts that might help them bring down Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

"Except, obviously, Professor Snape," Harry had said. They had all nodded at that.

Now they were—very carefully, at Harry's advice—running their fingers up and down spines, shining their wands over the titles. A few likely candidates, fortunately in English, had been added to the pile that Parvati was carrying. She carried them to Lavender, who placed them on one of the tables, and they returned to their places.

"Hey!" Neville whispered loudly. He got a chorus of shushes in response, but waved them away. "There's a Herbology text here. Maybe it'll have something."

"Worth a try, Neville," Ron said. "But keep it down." The dark-haired boy nodded, and handed the book over to Parvati.

A few minutes later, Harry insisted they start reading, and return another night. After all, it could take them several goes to get through _all_ of the relevant books.

"Let's get started," he said as quietly as he could, and they began to open the dangerous tomes as carefully as possible, ready to start taking notes. Ginny lit the lamps as brightly as she dared, and they focussed their attentions on finding the best way to destroy Lord Voldemort.

* * *

"You…" Sirius began. He blinked rapidly, collecting his thoughts. "You're supposed to be _dead_. They… didn't they kill you?"

"No idea," Regulus replied blithely. "`Fraid I can't remember what actually happened. But the Dark Lord orderer my death, yes. So." He tilted his head, looking his brother up and down. "What happened to you, Sirius?"

"_Me_? Why the hell would Voldemort," Regulus flinched, "oh, grow up; why would _he_ want his darling Regulus dead?"

"I… I changed, Siri…"

"Now why do I find that so hard to believe?" Sirius asked sarcastically.

"Don't be like that, broth…"

"I'm _not_ your brother," he hissed. "Or have you forgotten that I was disinherited?"

Regulus was getting agitated; Sirius was already furious. "Look, I tried to make up for my mistakes…"

"If you were so contrite, why didn't you just come to me?"

"Would you have seen me?" Regulus asked. Sirius remained silent. "I thought so." His eyes drifted to Hermione, and the edge of his mouth quirked up. "Hello. Who are you?"

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said, holding out her hand.

* * *

"Is there any particular reason I've been Summoned here in the middle of the night?" Professor Snape asked. Dumbledore had been more than intrigued that Regulus Black was in the Veil, not to mention concerned. He was supposed to have been dead. If he wheedled Hermione and Sirius into letting them out if they escaped, he would no doubt return to his former master. And even if he didn't, could he still be trusted?

Madame Pomfrey, however, had woken him from his nice, calm, _dreamless _sleep, to tell him that there was an emergency in the hospital wing. He had wondered which dunderheaded students had got themselves into trouble as he came through the floo, and was ready to put his money on it being Potter, and perhaps Weasley. He was instead surprised to see one of the Patil twins lying in a hospital bed, trembling uncontrollably. It was as much of a surprise to see Longbottom in the bed next to her, eyes wide and glassy, and limbs stiff, a contrast to the girl.

But he was almost pleased to see that he was right about one thing—Potter and Weasley were certainly involved in some way. They were standing nearby with some of their 'comrades', looking guilty as hell.

"What have you done?" he asked the two teenage delinquents slowly. They looked at him mutinously, and Madame Pomfrey clucked her tongue.

"These students need your help, Severus," she scolded, and he rolled his eyes as he approached the beds.

"Why? Surely, as I'm not their head of house…"

"You're not here in that capacity," she told him. "Otherwise Minerva would be here."

"Then Professor Slughorn…"

"Nor as a potions master!" she exclaimed, exasperated with his attitude. "They were in the Restricted Section…"

"What?" he whispered menacingly, turning to the other students. "May one ask why?"

"And before you say it, I've sent for Irma," Madame Pomfrey added. "You're the… Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," she said, being as tactful as possible. He raised an eyebrow at her, and then frowned.

"You mean that I'm the Dark Arts expert," he said, correcting her with a sneer.

"Yes," she said. "Quite frankly, that's exactly what I mean. Can you help?"

"Not without Madame Pince," he said, but he bent over Miss Patil all the same, more inclined to help her than Longbottom. "You may need Horace for this after all. Some muscle relaxant potion, perhaps…"

"I've tried," she said. "It didn't work. If I give her any more, she'll be in danger of paralysis if the potion wears off by itself."

"Has her sister been notified?" Professor Snape asked.

"I'll do that," Luna spoke up, and he waved her away. Before she could touch the floo powder, however, Madame Pince stepped through, and hurried over to the beds.

"Good," the medi-witch said as the librarian approached. "Which books were they?" she asked the healthy students. They looked at each other, and tried to remember.

* * *

"Miss Granger," Regulus said, smiling warmly at her, and taking her right hand in both of his. His thumbs stroked the skin of both the back of her hand and her palm. "I'm so pleased to meet you. Regulus Black, entirely at your service." He bowed, and kissed both of her hands. "Do tell me all about yourself."

"Leave her, Regulus," Sirius growled.

"Oh, dear me," his brother said in mock despair. He lowered Hermione's hands to her side, and then gently glided his fingers over hers as he let go. She looked at him unblinkingly, taking in the resemblance between the two men. Overall, nice as Regulus looked, she much preferred Sirius.

Where did _that_ come from? she asked herself.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Black," she said.

"Ever the cradle-robber, aren't you, old boy?" Regulus asked his brother. "If you like older men, my dear, I'm a year younger than him." He winked at a shocked Hermione, and never saw Sirius' fist coming.

**

* * *

**

Fight!!!

**Okay, not really. I just figured that it was an interesting way to end the chapter. Do you agree?**


	29. Remember

"Remember"

"_Leave her, Regulus," Sirius growled._

"_Oh, dear me," his brother said in mock despair. He lowered Hermione's hands to her side, and then gently glided his fingers over hers as he let go. She looked at him unblinkingly, taking in the resemblance between the two men. Overall, nice as Regulus looked, she much preferred Sirius._

_Where did that come from? she asked herself._

"_Nice to meet you, Mr. Black," she said._

"_Ever the cradle-robber, aren't you, old boy?" Regulus asked his brother. "If you like older men, my dear, I'm a year younger than him." He winked at a shocked Hermione, and never saw Sirius' fist coming._

"There was no need for that, Sirius," Hermione scolded as she helped Regulus sit up. He was holding his face, and Hermione could see blood. "Look! You've broken his nose."

"Thakes foh dat," Regulus muttered. "`Cause I _really_ deeded rebiding."

"Quiet," she said, and Sirius snorted. Hermione pulled out her wand, and mended the younger man's nose. He gave her a grin in thanks, and then glared at his brother while she used a cleansing charm to remove the blood.

"You must really fancy her," he remarked, watching Hermione's face go from cream to white to red out of the corner of his eye. "You've never done that before, for anyone."

"She's my godson's best friend," Sirius said. The look he gave his younger brother was so scathing that it was an excellent cover for the embarrassed flush that adorned his face. Pity Regulus was so damned observant. Pity, in fact, that he had lost her temper like that. "No cracking onto her, Regulus."

"Well, you're using my name, and not a swear word," Regulus said, shrugging. Hermione helped him to his feet. "That's progress. Thank you, Miss Granger. May I call you 'Hermione'?"

"Yes, of course," she said, frowning at Sirius. "But I think we're both interested to find out why you're here; _how_ you're here."

"The Dark Lord wanted me dead because I betrayed him," he replied. Her eyes widened, and Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"Is that so?" he asked, clearly sceptical.

"Look, admittedly you have every reason to dislike and distrust me…"

"How about loathe you with every fibre of my being? And want to get Hermione the hell out of your presence?"

"Don't be like that…"

"Sirius," Hermione said gently, trying to bring some element of calm to the confrontation, "do you really hate your brother more than you hate Peter Pettigrew?" Sirius opened and closed his mouth several times.

"Peter Pettigrew?" Regulus asked, looking between Hermione and Sirius as they stared at each other. "I thought you were friends?"

"There's a lot you have to learn, brother," Sirius said, his eyes never leaving Hermione's now that their gazes were once again connected. "Maybe we should start from the beginning?"

* * *

"I vote we go with the winning side," Blaise Zabini declared, seconding the blonde's motion.

Draco Malfoy had thought it over, and decided. Killing _really_ wasn't for him at all; and now that he didn't have his godfather to hide behind, he needed to do something. Much as he hated the thought of going against his family, he reasoned that, as they had endangered him by being on the Dark Lord's side in the first place, what did he owe them? They owed _him_, not the other way around! Since his father landed himself in jail over the summer, it had been up to Draco to look after his mother, and be the head of the family.

He was too young for all of this, and not used to doing dirty work. Murdering Albus Dumbledore was _very_ dirty indeed. Therefore, he was using his considerable influence over the other Slytherins, trying to sway them to the side of the Light with him. It was a complete turnaround from the start of the year. But then, as their head of house thought Voldemort to be wrong, and as he had always looked after them, they were tending to feel their loyalties shift towards their professor, and towards Dumbledore's side.

Draco and his fellow Lighters were creating a rift in Slytherin house; a divide; one that would change the course of the war.

* * *

After Sirius and Hermione had brought Regulus up-to-date on what had happened since he 'died', he told them why Voldemort had ordered his death.

"I found out that he had created—and was still creating—horcruxes," he told them. Hermione's eyebrows drew together, and Sirius glanced at her.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well what?" she replied.

"Don't you know what a horcrux is?"

"No," she said, placing her head in her hands. "I confess: I don't know. Do enlighten me, Sirius dear."

Dear? Regulus thought, smirking at his brother's reddening face.

"I don't know either," Sirius said tightly. "I just thought that, being the know-it-all you are, you might… you know… know."

"Well, there's more to me than being a bookworm," she insisted. "So, Mr. Black," she said.

"'Regulus'," he corrected, and she smiled at him.

"Regulus, what is a horcrux?"

"It's an object in which a person encloses part of their soul," he said solemnly, and Hermione could almost believe that it came from a book. Perhaps it did. "The Dark Lord had certainly made one out of a locket. Kreacher and I stole it, as I intended to destroy it…"

"Why?" Sirius asked sharply.

"I'd become disillusioned with blood purity," Regulus said wryly. "And," he turned serious, "I missed my older brother." Sirius was silent, so Regulus sighed, and then continued. "Anyway, before I could do anything about the locket, the Dark Lord found out, and gave orders to have me killed." He stopped, and said nothing more.

"And then what happened?" Hermione asked, leaning forward. They were all seated cross-legged on the ground, outside the room where the single people lived.

"Listen, I really can't remember how I got here," he said, and he fiddled with a blade of Veil grass. "Maybe it's the way I came in. Or maybe someone Obliviated me, and then sent me here. I… I just don't _know_!" He threw the grass to the ground, and sunk his head onto his arms. Hermione gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, but withdrew her hand when she saw Sirius' face. He had a half-baleful, half-angry expression, which disappeared when she had moved away from his younger brother.

"Maybe I can help," she said slowly, and Regulus looked up. She moved until she was sitting directly in front of him, hoping that Sirius wouldn't lose his temper again. "Just stay still, and keep your eyes on me."

"What are you going to do?" he asked cautiously, sitting up straight so that he wouldn't get a backache.

"Well, it's easier to do a Memory Retrieval charm than a Memory Block charm," she said, smiling at him again. "I watched them being performed at St. Mungo's this year, when we visited Mr. Weasley after the attack. It's worth a try, isn't it?" Regulus swallowed, but nodded slowly. "Very well. I just hope it'll work after all this time."

"Time's slower here than outside," he said, glancing at his brother. "Either that, or you've just aged a whole lot."

"Partly," Sirius admitted, watching resentfully as Hermione placed her left hand on Regulus' right cheek. "But you don't look as though you've aged more than five or ten years."

"Ha!" Regulus smirked again, and Hermione tapped him on the cheek in punishment. "Ouch. Sorry. I'm ready now."

"Good. Be quiet. _Both_ of you." She cleared her throat, gently pressed her wand to his forehead, and spoke the incantation. "_Memoriter obsidio eximere_!"

It was incredible. Regulus' memories of _that day_ were swimming back into his mind. He could see and feel everything as it happened. But he knew one thing.

"We can't go out that way," he said, dropping his head in regret.

"Why not? What happened?" Sirius asked, crawling over to them. He placed a hand on Hermione's back just as she began to sway from the energy drain the spell had caused. "Hey, there," he whispered. "Careful." He pulled her down to the ground from where she had been half-crouching, and held her in his arms while she struggled to stop the feeling of dizziness.

Being in Sirius' arms, however, just made her giddier.

"I'm fine," she said, pushing herself away from his gently. "But tell us what happened, Regulus."

"I was being chased through the forest of Dean, where I had been hiding from Death Eaters, and ran into this cave. A sort of hole was in the floor there, but I didn't see it at first, since I was trying to ward the entrance as fast as I could. I did all right, but wasn't expecting the barrage of anti-warding charms that hit my barrier to cause a rock-fall." Hermione gasped, and held onto his hand. Again, she let go quickly when she heard Sirius growl softly.

What's _with_ him? she wondered. But Regulus was talking again.

"No matter what I tried, I couldn't break out. My air supply was dwindling—pulled out by magic, no doubt from my former 'friends'—so I looked around the cave. Light from my wand showed me this kind of… I supposed it almost looked like a waterfall, one that keeps supplying the water to itself, like the fountain in the Ministry's atrium. Only this one had obviously been used time and time again, and was only a trickle. So I Transfigured a rock into a cup, and scooped the last of the water into it; I was thirsty by now. Kind of took me back to the cave where the locket was…" He trailed off, fear flitting over his features as he relived the trauma.

"Go on," Sirius said, in the softest voice he had ever used with his brother. Regulus raised his head, and the men's eyes connected for a moment, before he finished his story.

"I lost consciousness—even forgot who I was for several, terrifying seconds—and found myself falling into the hole. When I woke up, people were crowded around me, and a man named Lewis… oh. You'll have met him." They nodded. "Well, he welcomed me, and I've been… okay here, I s'pose. But I've been desperate to know how things were going outside of the Veil, and I want to help fight against the Dark Lord. I can help. Really." His eyes were pleading with Sirius, whose heart had thawed a little.

"So, because there's no way out through your way…"

"Lewis once told me that, even if someone else remembered how they got here, I could only leave with them," he said. "So… we're stuck."

Hermione and Sirius looked at each other.

"Not necessarily," she said.

* * *

"Never do anything so foolish again," became the parrot cry of the teachers when Parvati and Neville were released from the hospital wing. They agreed, but insisted that they were only trying to help. This went for the other co-conspirators as well.

"But we still need help," Ginny said, and they all agreed. Therefore, they took advantage of the Hogwarts Rumour Mill, and used it to reach out to the student body, and ask for volunteer researchers.

The response would be overwhelming. So overwhelming that even Professor Snape wouldn't be able to deny it.

**

* * *

**

Only one, action-packed, romance-packed, and just good-fun-in-general chapter left to go! Then I'll only be working on three stories, and won't feel so guilty about… ehem… neglecting my uni work. *Bites lower lip guiltily*

**Review, please!**


	30. Some Little Time Passes

"Some Little Time Passes"

"_Never do anything so foolish again," became the parrot cry of the teachers when Parvati and Neville were released from the hospital wing. They agreed, but insisted that they were only trying to help. This went for the other co-conspirators as well._

"_But we still need help," Ginny said, and they all agreed. Therefore, they took advantage of the Hogwarts Rumour Mill, and used it to reach out to the student body, and ask for volunteer researchers._

_The response would be overwhelming. So overwhelming that even Professor Snape wouldn't be able to deny it._

It took two weeks for all the students who wished to help to be 'catalogued' (to use Harry's word). Dumbledore—in fact, all of the professors—were so impressed by the number of students who wanted to help with the research, that the headmaster made an executive decision: a research day. No classes would be held, and every student involved would congregate in the Great Hall for the day. There, the house elves would provide them with periodic snacks, and the staff would patrol to avert any incidents that may arise from the dangerous books.

Of course, Dumbledore placed protective charms on the students who handled the books, and shields around those taking notes. No one was quite sure how Madame Pince had managed to unwind enough to let her books out of the Restricted Section, let alone out of the library itself. No amount of pressing would reveal her reasons, either.

Professor Snape and Lewis were still working on the translation of _Oracula Atrum Solus Inhio_. They were both nearby, keeping half an eye on the students, ready to jump in and stop anything bad from happening.

"Only one chapter left," the potions master muttered to the Curate, who smiled at him.

"Wonderful," he said. "Shall we continue?"

"Indeed."

* * *

More time had passed in the Veil. Regulus had returned with Hermione and Sirius to their quarters, and took over his brother's bed, while the Animagus once again took his form to sleep by the fire. They tried to 'resolve their issues', at Hermione's insistence, while she holed herself up in the library.

One day, she finally emerged after a few days of only having left the room of books for the occasional meal and a brief nap. The two men had tried to break her of this, but realised, after the first four days, that it was useless. As they desired to remain un-hexed, they stayed away from her.

"I found something," she said, disturbing their silence. They both looked up at her. "After exhaustive research—more so than I've ever encountered before—I've come to the conclusion that the Judges were right."

"About what?" Sirius asked, and then his eyes widened. "You… you mean…"

"The only way we can get out is if we… marry," she said. "The marriage will open a portal to the groom's residence—in this case, I would imagine that to be number twelve—and will be open long enough for all three of us to get through."

"Hermione," he said, "you can't do this to yourself. I mean, marrying me…"

"She could marry me," Regulus joked, but his humour quailed at his older brother's glare.

"You're not helping here, Regulus," Hermione said, and he shrugged. "And I'm of the age, and… er… purity." She coughed delicately. "Well?" She raised her eyebrows at the men's confused expressions. She rolled her eyes. "Both of you get dressed. I assume you're going to be best man, Regulus?" He looked at his brother, who just nodded dumbly. "Good. I'll be back as soon as I can. Then we'll go to the Judges."

"Wha… why… what's the rush, Hermione?" Sirius asked, reddening at the girl's impatience.

"Two words," she said. "The first is 'Lord'. I'm sure you can guess the second. Now go and get ready. And be prepared to run out the portal as soon as it opens. I'll find the nicest clothes I have, with the most movement to them."

Just because she needed maximum movement in her best dress robes didn't mean that she should forgo makeup. So Hermione made herself as presentable as possible. Nowhere near how well she looked at the Yule Ball, but it would do. For all she knew, the wedding wouldn't apply in the outside world. And without Lewis as Curate of the Veil, she wasn't sure how the ceremony would be conducted. But surely the Judges would do everything they could to accommodate them?

The Four Judges were in their courtroom, and looked up as the three members of the wedding party entered.

"We're here to get married," Sirius said, and the Judges looked at each other, growing excited at their supposed victory.

"Very well," Four said, barely containing his glee, and One clicked his fingers. Hermione looked down, and saw that she was now in a white wedding dress. She could also feel that her hair had left her neck, and realised that it had been swept up into some kind of bun, perhaps. There was no mirror, so she just hoped that she could view this memory in the headmaster's Pensieve later. She looked at Regulus, who was still in his dress robes, as was Sirius. But she noticed that her groom's jaw had dropped open as he took in her outfit. She blushed, and looked up at the Judges. They were now standing right in front of them, and Regulus hit his brother on the arm.

"Hey!" Sirius growled.

"Pay attention," Hermione whispered to him. His eyes grew darker as he looked at her.

"I was," he said huskily, his eyes tracing her again. She swallowed, and turned back to the Judges.

The 'wedding' was brief, and the bride and groom had to force themselves to concentrate; Sirius, because he was distracted by Hermione, and was berating himself for it; and the bride was busy keeping an eye out for the portal.

"You must now kiss to seal the marriage," Two said. Regulus nudged his brother, who gave himself a mental shake before swooping down on Hermione. She gasped moments after their lips met, and had to grasp Sirius' shoulders so that her legs wouldn't give out.

"Is the Veil pure yet?" Three murmured to his fellow Judges. The words broke the spell—not literally—between the newlyweds, who broke away mid-kiss, gripping each other tightly. They were breathing hard, and Hermione had to drag her eyes away from her husband's gaze. Then she saw it, and gasped again.

"The portal," she hissed to the two Black men. She pointed, and they turned. She was now holding onto Sirius' hand, and took Regulus' in her other. Running forward, they all ran through the portal, ignoring the enraged shouts of the Judges as they leapt through to freedom.

With a giant sucking sound, the portal to the Veil closed, and they looked around the hallway of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"Home sweet home," Sirius muttered cynically. "Can't believe I'm actually _relieved_ to be here."

"I'll be interested to see whether the Veil _has_ been purified," Hermione admitted, not realising that, while she had let go of Regulus, she was still holding her husband's hand. As their fingers brushed against each other ever-so-slightly, she felt something, and looked down.

"Rings," she said, and all three looked down. A plain silver wedding ring adorned her ring finger, and Sirius found the matching one on his own left hand. "So I guess I'm… Hermione Black now."

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispered, squeezing her hand gently before finally letting go.

"Filth! A Mudblood in the House of Black!" Regulus turned swiftly, jumping, as he stared at his mother's portrait. She was, of course, screaming about Hermione; but, no longer the purist of his youth, he felt like hexing the painted woman right off the wall. "Dirty brat staining the air with her impurity! Dirt! Rubbish! Trash!"

"Quiet, mother," Regulus hissed, striding over to the picture. Mrs. Black stopped her rant as she looked on her youngest son's face.

"Reggie," she whispered. "You're alive. You're alive!" She lost some of her pinched expression as she gazed at him with undisguised, sickening affection. Sirius had pulled Hermione to him comfortingly as soon as his mother started her rant. He had had to come to terms with the fact that he couldn't remove her from the wall; but his bride shouldn't have to endure such verbal torment. They would definitely have to move. Regulus could have the house.

"We'll leave," Sirius told her quietly, stroking her back. "It was bad enough during the summer holidays. Wait until she finds out that you're her daughter-in-law."

"She's just an inanimate object," Hermione reminded him, but she still cuddled into his side, feeling more hurt by the insults than usual.

"You bloody harpy!" Regulus shouted, and the other two looked up as his mother gaped at him. "You with your 'ideals', your prejudices! I'm ashamed that I ever shared them." He spat at the floor in front of her, and she squealed in disgust and horror.

"Reggie," she pleaded. "Darling, sweetheart…"

"Shut it, you," he said, and he drew his wand. "Your daughter-in-law is worth a thousand pureblood witches!"

"A simple Silencing charm will do," Sirius said wryly, amused by his brother's reaction, not to mention his defence of Hermione.

"I've got a much better plan," Regulus said through clenched teeth. "A _permanent _solution." Mrs. Black paled. "_Carmen stabilis amotio_!"

THUMP!

"R-reggie?" his mother asked, looking up from her new position—the floor of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. "Why did you do that?"

* * *

Twenty of the Slytherin students from the fifth, sixth, and seventh years had left the school early on the research day. They were joining their families with the Dark Lord to prepare for the day of battle, whenever it should arrive. The younger students, who had been left behind with scathing remarks from their older fellow students, decided to help the Light out of revenge. After all, a Slytherin bears a grudge as well as the next person, perhaps even more.

Professor Snape had mixed feelings over the news, which a trembling first year brought to him. He nodded his thanks, and said that he'd speak to them in the Slytherin common room after the evening meal.

"Th-thank you, Professor Snape," the young boy squeaked, and he hurried away. Lewis chuckled, and they finished the translation a few minutes later. While the professor packed up his notes, Lewis stared at something on the other side of the room. But he cleared his throat, and packed away the quill, ink, and spare parchment.

"_Done_," Professor Snape said, and he almost slumped on the bench in relief. "The headmaster will certainly be gratified. Thank you for your help, Lewis."

"I really _do_ need a last name, don't I?" the Curate remarked, staring over the other man's shoulder again. He jerked his eyes back to the table.

"We'll think of something. Meanwhile, I must get these to Albus."

"Go right ahead," Lewis mumbled, off in space once again.

Just as Professor Snape was giving the translation to the headmaster, gasps started arising from the students, and a familiar female voice interrupted the work.

"Did we miss anything?"

* * *

There was an uproar. Students surged towards Hermione—who, upon leaving the Veil, had found herself back in her original wedding garb—but many of them drew back when they saw that _the_ Sirius Black was standing beside her, their hands brushing. What caused the bigger stir, among the staff members, anyway, was when Regulus stepped out from behind his brother and sister-in-law.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron shouted, engulfing their friend in a big bear hug.

"Hi, boys," she said, her voice muffled by their arms. "Can I please breathe?"

"Come on, Harry," Sirius said, amusement in his voice. "Let her go now." Lewis bustled up to them just as Harry launched himself at his godfather, and Ginny pushed through the other students to get to Hermione.

"How did you finally get out?" the Curate asked. "Hello again, Regulus," he added.

"Hi, Lewis! Good to see you again."

"You too. Now how did you escape?"

Hermione and Sirius looked at each other uncomfortably, and then back at Lewis, who paled.

"You… you didn't…"

"It was the only way," Hermione said. Everyone was listening.

"I… I'm so sorry," Lewis said. "Who performed the ceremony?"

"The Judges," Sirius told him.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, bewildered. "What happened, `Mione?"

"We had to, uh…" Sirius cleared his throat before continuing. "We had to 'purify' the Veil to open a portal of escape, and to do so, we had to… uh…"

"Marry," Hermione finished, suddenly gripping Sirius' hand. He clung onto hers just as tightly.

"You _what_?" almost everyone shouted. It was almost deafening.

"It may not even be real outside of the Veil!" Hermione bellowed, silencing the others.

It's not as though I would mind if it is, she added silently.

She was completely unaware that Sirius was having the same thought.

They glanced at each other as Regulus began to explain their adventures of the past few weeks, and drew back as unnoticeably as they could. They slipped into the Entrance Hall to find some respite.

"Perhaps we shouldn't have done that," Sirius suggested, raising his eyebrows at Hermione while they both leaned against the wall. She nodded, lowering her head to stare at the stone floor. "But… it'll be all right, Hermione. And Regulus can handle them. After all, who's going to attack someone who's supposedly been dead seventeen years?" The both laughed quietly at that. They fell silent when they looked at each other again.

Slowly, they pushed away from the wall, and moved into each other's arms. They finished what they had started in the Veil, uninterrupted by desperate Judges and even more desperate escapes.

They were into their fifth minute of kissing, pressing closer and closer into the shadows, and into each other, when they heard two more people leave the Great Hall. However, they didn't notice anything until they heard an unfamiliar giggle from nearby. The newlyweds pulled away from each other, both breathless, and looked around.

There, near one of the columns, was Madame Pince, who wasn't wearing her usual glasses, and had clearly done something very attractive with her hair and makeup. She was laughing at something a man had just said to her. He had a hand pressed to the wall on one side of her, and was very clearly flirting. He tilted his head as he continued to flatter the librarian, and Hermione and Sirius saw that it was…

"Lewis?" they whispered to each other.

**

* * *

**

Well, I guess that's it for this story. So… the end! And happiness abounds!

**No, I'm clearly not having a whole Voldemort-is-defeated ending, even though he will, naturally, be defeated. How could he not be, when so many extra people are on the side of the Light?**

**Lewis will no doubt be given a literary last name in homage to Madame Pince—any suggestions, fair readers?—and Hermione and Sirius are, in fact, legally married in the outside world. It's acknowledged by the Ministry, because they really did purify the Veil with their wedding.**

**I hope no one thought it unrealistic that they were snogging in the shadows. But, quite frankly, it's been building up to this. And that's another reason their marriage is legit outside of the Veil. They didn't properly finish their husband-and-wife-now kiss until they were in the Entrance Hall, and they'll have to consummate their marriage outside of the Veil, so… yes.**

**Did you enjoy this story? It's certainly been more successful than my other Sirione stories. A lot more successful. And I brought Regulus back to life! Yay!**


End file.
